


The Camelot Spy Who Loved Me

by Kalee60



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys Being Boys, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Gay Sex, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Merlin enjoyed working as an IT expert for Camelot, England's official non-official spy agency.  He got paid to work with his best friend and create gadgets for real, live spies. What he hated though - field operatives. Well, perhaps just one in particular.Arthur Pendragon was cocky, arrogant, frustrating and too damn gorgeous for his own good. (Not that Merlin noticed the handsome agent or fantasized about his stupid pouty mouth).So when Merlin ends up on a field mission gone horribly wrong, of course it’s Arthur who comes to his rescue. Stuck in a life or death clusterfuck with his work nemesis was not doing anything to squash his ever growing inappropriate crush - or his rapidly deteriorating will power.James Bond never had it this hard… surely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All!
> 
> Welcome to a purely self indulgent romp through the spy-verse.
> 
> This idea would not leave me alone. Seriously, driving around in traffic having fictitious conversations that Merlin and Arthur would snap at each other in ridiculous situations, was probably more fun than it should have been.
> 
> As always, the biggest thanks goes to darter_blue, soulmate extraordinaire and best friend to boot (who’s also a great beta and storyteller herself). And obviously the Merthur shippers, who without - these stories would not see the light of day!
> 
> Enjoy - although just for reference, I am not a spy, and take great poetic license with situations and gadgets - just suspend belief for a bit. :)

Merlin watched the gunman creep closer, his vantage point allowing him to see exactly where the slightly blocky man hid. Badly.

He had him.

Not an expert at all in the art of stealth, he jumped out while levelling the gun and shot; impressed he remained undetected and hadn't wavered in resolve.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gwaine's voice erupted from the cubicle across the room. A grin split Merlin's face, he lived for this.

“How many times do I have to tell you, no bellowing obscenities.” Gaius’ tired and done voice floating out from his office, earning a secondary larger grin.

“But he shot me in the head!”

“No exceptions.”

“Are you playing video games? Shouldn't you be working?” The derision dripped from behind Merlin's shoulder, instantly killing all mirth. He stiffened up.

“I think what I'm doing on my lunch break has about, oh let me think - zero percent anything to do with you. Don't you have people to frame, moustaches to wear?” Merlin didn't deign to look at the speaker, knowing the deep voice all too well. Arthur fucking Pendragon, Lord and Master of all things douche. Also team leader of the famed (and secret) Kings Guard, which only enhanced his conceitedness.

“Oi mate, it's not _just_ a video game. It's the 20th anniversary edition of Goldeneye. Why are Bondboys always dicks?”

“Gwaine.” Gaius warned again.

The quiet, ‘dick is _hardly_ a swear word when used as a noun’ made Merlin chuckle, as did Arthur's reaction to the name calling. But it was too fitting, all field operatives had a James Bond complex. He was ignoring the fact that he was currently playing a game on said spy.

“Where is Agravaine?” Arthur huffed out.

Merlin’s computer beeped, _finally_ , the simulation he was running had completed, now he could work out if the cloning program he’d developed would be useful. As he skim read the test results, a hand came down on his desk - hard. He jumped, almost knocking over the half drunk bottle of gatorade, catching it as it teetered on the edge of falling.

“What?” the growl not intentional, but fitting.

“I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.” The sharp smell of Arthur’s aftershave permeated the air, tangy and unfortunately delicious. He cut his eyes to the blonde, who leant in even further now he had Merlin’s attention. _Huh_ \- blue was apparently not a solid colour, it flashed between flecks of aqua and dark cobalt depending on mood.

Arthur’s grin was predatory as his lip curled. Appalled he was caught, what - looking, glancing, eye fucking? Most definitely _not_ getting lost in the gaze of the biggest asshole in the company, that would be preposterous. Merlin turned back to his computer, typing lord knows what, because he wasn't paying attention. He was too annoyed at his involuntary lapse, he needed damage control.

“I too expect many things in life, like not being hindered by a bloody Bondboy who thinks I’m a damn secretary for example.”

He flicked the test results to one of his three screens, pulling up the program on one other, annoyed it didn't do a harsh swooshing sound to make it obvious he was pissed. All he had was superior ignoring skills, honed from working around clodpoles, while he investigated the weak points the simulation discovered.

Suddenly a small Lego Gandalf flew past Merlin’s nose. He swung his gaze to Arthur, unable to keep surprise registering. “Did you just throw one of the most powerful wizards in the world at me?”

“No. I threw a toy.”

Words welled, and words he knew Gaius would send him home for. He couldn't believe the audacity of Sir Dickface touching his carefully lined up ring bearers atop his cubicle wall. But, before the litany of fucks could leave his mouth, a voice bellowed from down the hall.

“Pendragon!”

“Ah, there he is, thanks Martin.”

“It’s fucking Merlin, as you well know.”

“Oh, sorry, fucking _Mer_ lin was it? You know us Bondboys, we have terrible memories from all the steroids and hits to the head we endure.” Arthur strode off, flicking Legolas towards him. Merlin dodged as little lego legs came apart mid-air from the body.

Watching Arthur’s broad back, and unfortunately his even tighter arse as he walked towards Agravaines office, annoyed Merlin more than he thought possible. How could the biggest bag of dicks to ever walk the planet, look so damn good?

“Oh hey, Gwaine.”

Merlin glanced up, not having seen Percy trailing after his team mate, Arthur tended to take all his attention. He was leaving that errant statement alone.

Percy though, was not someone who could get lost in a crowd, it was almost hilarious as he was obscenely large. The man paused briefly before Gwaine's cubicle; the brunette waved disinterestedly without looking up from his screen, giving a noncommittal grunt of notice. Percy sighed unseen by Gwaine and fell in step behind Arthur. Merlin half smiled. Oh, how very interesting.

**

Two hours later with frustration nipping from a lack of progress with the program, Gaius summoned him. Merlin entered the small office, coffee cup full, an easy grin in place, before closing the door when the old man motioned for privacy. Christ, was he about to be hauled over the coals for yelling ‘shit’ earlier? He couldn’t help it, Legolas’s legs didn’t attach and his bright yellow hair flicked Merlin in the face. It stung, what else was he supposed to do? Technically it was all Arthurs fault.

“How long have you been with Camelot?”

Oh fuck, he was going to be fired.

“Six years. Six really productive and innovative years,” he amended.

“And in that time you’ve never been in the field, is that right?”

“Well, unless you count the last company picnic where I had to reroute the speakers so we could have music? But I do my annual five day field recruit training.”

“Right,” Gaius paused, raising a hefty eyebrow as he looked Merlin up and down critically. How that hairy monstrosity didn't pull his forehead down to his cheeks he just didn't know. “That will have to do, I guess.”

Merlin blinked once before scratching the back of his head in a gesture he knew to be confusion, he was trying desperately to figure out what was going on. Did Gaius want him to set up speakers at his what - 80th, 85th birthday party?

“We've been hired by the foreign department to infiltrate and stop an alleged smuggling syndicate working out of the Annamite Ranges in Vietnam.”

“Okay...” Merlin drew out the word, heart drumming a beat higher than usual. Maybe seven coffee’s in three hours wasn’t a good idea. Bloody Gwaine and his crush on the barista at Starbucks down the road.

“From all accounts of the limited information we have, it's not locals. It's somebody smart, new and absolutely ruthless, they are using the remote location and not so stringent border security protocols to their advantage.”

“Okay…” he repeated, mind running over the thousand things Camelot provided as an unofficial official-government spy agency. And why in fuck was Gaius watching him closely with something resembling pity in his eyes?

“The remote location and the severe undercover component of this operation means we can't get our gear or data out nor have anything shipped in without alerting them to our presence. They also have their own tech which will detect ours immediately. We need specialist gear. We need yours.”

“Okay…” the pitch higher now, he coughed, a very manly cough, it certainly didn’t squeak at the end.

Not knowing what he should respond with or what to do with his hands, he took a swig of coffee and swallowed hard, burning his throat in the process. There was no need to panic, _settle down_ , maybe the bad guys need speakers set up too.

“We need a tech man on the ground.” Gaius watched him closely. Merlin hoped his poker face of neutrality held. What in actual fuck?

“But you have, Robinson, Simon and - ”

“We need a local connection set up by a trained tech man, not an operative who dabbles. Plus nobody knows your gear like you.” The eyebrow rose on one side. Shit, Gaius was not messing around. The eyebrow had spoken.

“Okay…” Merlin fell back to his comfort word, unable to articulate the panic he felt. He swore to God if Gaius told him ‘his country needed him’ he'd walk out - if his jelly legs would allow.

Putting a hand against his chest he checked that his heart hadn't managed to jump out. It was still in place. He thought so anyway, he wasn’t a doctor. Just like he wasn't a damn field operative.

“Merlin?”

The worry in his superior, no, his friends voice calmed him down. For petes sake he was an operative, maybe not one who swung from building to building throwing bombs and shooting bad guys, but he’d trained over six years to get to this point. He also clearly had no idea what field operatives really did. They were hardly a cross between Spiderman and Deadpool.

“What are they smuggling?” he asked instead. Voice back to normal, he was good.

“Classified.”

“For fu… flips sake, I'm potentially risking my life and don't even get to ask why?”

“Need to know.”

“Do you know?”

Gaius’ eyes slid to the left. Christ, even he didn't know.

“If you can’t go, Merlin we will find somebody -”

“I’m good?”

“Was that a question or a statement?” The eyebrow wavered.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go - how hard could it be?”

“It's in and out, not hard at all, they won't even know you’re there.”

Merlin nodded, it would be fine, there was no way Gaius would send him into an unsafe situation with somebody who couldn't look out for him.

** 

Merlin woke up and immediately slapped his forearm, certain by now he'd made an entire colony of insects extinct. He winced at the lasting sting from the amount of hitting his body had endured. Merlin wasn't against a little ‘rough-play’, encouraged it sometimes, but generally he was enjoying the company of a willing partner. Self-masochism wasn't particularly his jam.

He'd arrived the evening before, meeting with Lance the camp leader who was way too smiley for a man in the ass crack of fuck knows. He was set up with a spot to sleep and slapped himself into oblivion after the long trek to reach their remote outpost.

Waking early, he slid from his tent, searching for coffee _and_ insect repellant. So far he wasn’t overly optimistic.

“Good to have you onboard,” a strikingly fit and strong woman spoke, stuffing her dark hair in a tie, grinning widely in his direction. “Emery's is it?”

Merlin preened, he never got called by his last name, like he was a spy. He was _not_ a spy by a long shot, but still he stood straighter. These people didn't know he was the biggest rookie to step inside of their camp.

“Yep, good to meet you...”

“Gwen.” She held out her hand and they shook each others, he instantly knew he was outgunned in the, well gun department. He envied yet admired her strength and also the way she threw a bottle of repellant at him from one of her thousand cargo pant pockets. His were full of gum, tissues, hand sanitizer and a Lego Bilbo Baggins (he _was_ on an adventure after all).  

“Thanks.” Merlin held the bottle up. She grinned, gesturing to his raw arms.

“Believe me when I say it’ll get better.”

“They'll stop biting?”

“Not a chance. I meant you’ll get used to having no feeling or skin on your arms from scratching.” Her grin was positively shit-eating.

Merlin loved her already.

“So, are you the one assigned to help me set up the local connection to get this information back to Camelot?”

“Nope, your babysitter’s out with Lance this morning, left about three.”

“AM?” He glanced at his watch, it was just after six. He shouldn’t be awake, his body was yelling at him to snuggle back into his dead bug strewn sleeping bag. The hygenic side was yelling for him not to sleep amongst tiny corpses. He wasn’t sure what side was winning. He was also ignoring Gwen’s small dig at being babysat, maybe his rookie status wasn’t such a secret. Fucking Gaius probably put an APB out telling everyone he had allergies and needed his pillow fluffed every night. _Having_ an actual pillow would at least make it more bearable.

“I would kill for a proper coffee.” Gwen interrupted his inner monologue of all the ways he could tell Gaius he was a proper adult _who_ even owned a washing machine. Legitimately, you couldn’t get more adult than laundry.

A cup of… black sludge was thrust under his nose. “Actually, I think I _have_ killed over coffee…”

His gaze was sharper than intended, certain she was joking, but _not_ quite sure.

She cracked up, laugh rebounding off the small group of tents. He felt heat run up his neck, and hoped it was embarrassment not an exotic heat rash. “I'm joking, your face though - gorgeous.”

“Uh thanks.”

She chuckled again and handed him a milk pouch, which he took, grateful to be doing something with his hands other than itching. “Ok, want to show me what I'm working with?”

He followed her to another tent, ducking to get under the camo cover and winced. What kind of operation were they running? It looked like his grandma's knitting box, where all the needles, wool and thread took hours to unravel before you could even start on that scarf for your mum for Christmas. Suffice to say, his mum always got a Marks and Spencer scarf.

“Judging by your judging face, you're not impressed with what Robinson tried to accomplish?”

“Well if he was trying to make friendship bands from the coloured wires. Consider mission accomplished.”

Gwen's snort appreciated in the face of the work cut out before him. Robinson was clearly a heathen.

 **

Merlin worked steadily, free in the knowledge that saying ‘fuck’ out loud would not earn a slap to the back of his head or another HR report. Hannah, their HR administrator, even messaged him about the anger management classes they ran last time Gaius reported him. His response probably got him signed up immediately.

At least he knew what he was working with, twisted cables aside. His new cloning device was the one Camelot had used on this mission. It was the first time being applied in the field and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Generally he would be monitoring and working out any kinks and bugs from the warmth and safety of his cubicle. But apparently the mocking overlord called fate had other ideas, as he was _literally_ removing bugs from the system. It was fucking disgusting.

The three laptops Camelot initially sent over were inoperable, Merlin still figuring out if the travel, humidity, bugs or Robinson had caused the majority of damage.

On a more positive note, the ground team managed to get close enough to their targets camp for the cloning device to pick up a swathe of data. It was now up to Merlin to try and get it out and see if it was workable. He hoped their encryptions were medieval.

Apparently Lance and his soon to be partner (babysitter) went out at stupid o’clock to obtain clearer photos of their targets for identifying purposes. The chatter he’d managed to overhear in the camp consisted of a few key words though, including: drugs, embezzlement and figures with more zeros than he could count to. It was standard work for Camelot, but he couldn’t help feeling he was in over his head by just being there.

Merlin though, was glad he wasn't expected to be walking around in the forest. With his clumsiness he would have already broken three fingers, been bitten by a rabid spider and lost a trouser leg in some unfortunate tree accident.

Sighing heavily at the catostophy of tech lying in front of him, he rubbed the back of his neck, sweat coating his fingers. He grimaced and wiped his hands on his cargo pants.

“Gross,” He whispered, then picked up the cloning device.

So far he'd managed to get one of the Dell laptops to turn on, but plugging the cloning device in was worthless. The port was damaged so the connections he had were dicey and intermittent. He'd be lucky to get data off without corruption, so he disconnected it. Using wifi was out of the question, he couldn't risk anyone nearby noticing the signature (even if he changed the name to FBI surveillance van, or managed to get a secure signal). He’d have to do it via encrypted bluetooth, file by file as best he could, direct to his phone. Of course Merlin _would_ leave the cord which connected his phone direct to the device on his bedside table. He always forgot something, but why did it have to be an integral to the mission piece of tech? The cord was probably sitting next to his sunscreen, or the extra underwear he was supposed to pack.

As the first file painstakingly transferred, he was infinitely glad he'd put a 512gb memory card in his phone, it might mean he'd have to delete his back catalogue of Dragon Ball Z and his well-hidden porn stash, but he should be able to fit the data on.

He slapped his forearm again, pulling down the sleeve of his Beaker t-shirt (literally a row of glass beakers filled with liquid and one filled by the muppet itself). He thought it clever - Gwaine thought it lame. Though to be fair Merlin gave him shit every time he wore out his, ‘I know HTML (how to meet ladies)’ shirt. It evened out.

It was far too hot and humid for the necessary coverage of clothing his body required, but he wasn't sure if the shots the Dr gave him had kicked in and the howl of laughter from Gwen at his ‘Casper white’ skin had been enough to demasculinize even Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson.

Checking his phone once more he sighed. Only four files had transferred - just another eighty seven to go. This was going to be fun.

**

Six hours and four sludge coffee’s later, Merlin had plans to propose to the barista from Starbucks and beat Gwaine to the punch so he’d never have to drink this crap again, when Gwen ran into the tent. Before Merlin could quip she was The Flash, she grasped his arm hard enough to make him wince.

“Grab what you need, you have to get out.”

Merlin watched wide-eyed as she ran to the corner, uncovering a tranq gun and something that certainly looked more gun-like. His pulse decided right that moment to kick into action, he had a feeling Gwen could hear it thump from the other side of the tent.

“What’s happening?” He asked as he grabbed his shoulder bag, shoving everything he needed into it. Gwen thrust a few bottles of water at him, more ration packs and a flare gun. He did not like where this was going.

“They were almost caught, something about a reflection off sunglasses. Lance managed to get back in short radio range to give us a 3 minute head start. They are almost on us - you need to be ready to run - now!” Gwen flew out the tent.

“Fuck - what kind of an idiot would leave reflective sunnies on?”

Suddenly the flap flew open and somebody ran in full speed, skidding to a stop. “You better be packed, we have to run.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Blue eyes met blue. Arthur Pendragon’s mouth fell open in an extremely unattractive fashion as he looked Merlin up from foot to head.

“You? They sent you?”

Before Merlin could indignantly reply in scathing protest, a large bug flew past, buzzing as it went. Arthur leapt across the space, pushing Merlin to the floor in the next second. He didn’t go without a manly squeal and an oomph as all the air left his lungs when about 95kgs of Pendragon landed across him, along with a pair of mirrored aviators which flung from Arthur's head into Merlin's face.

Merlin grunted in annoyance and kicked up, trying to dislodge Arthur as another bug flew overhead. “Get off me you oversized lug.”

Swearing greeted his complaint, “sure thing, _Mer_ lin, no trouble. Do you _want_ a bullet lodged in your skull?”

Spluttering would help, Merlin knew it would - the condescending way Arthur spoke - wait, did he say - “bullet?”

“What do you think is making all those lovely holes in the tent? Bloody amateur…”

Merlin looked up above his head at the small holes in the canvas which weren’t there before. Bugs. There were _no_ bugs - they were fucking bullets. Fuck - he was going to die.

“You’re going to die.”

“What?” He stammered unbelievingly at Arthurs lack of mollycoddling.

“If you just lay there, you'll die. If you want to live, then come with me.” Arthur rolled off him, grabbed his sunnies and army crawled to the back of the tent, slithering into the brush behind. He was also certain Arthur didn't mean to quote Schwarzenegger.

Merlin didn’t have much of a choice, knowing Arthur was the only help he had.

“Sure they won't know I'm here, in and out - no trouble. Fucking liar.” Merlin cursed Gaius as he followed Arthur’s form into who knew what. Things could not get any worse.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Things got worse.

Three sweaty, gross and frightful adrenaline fueled hours later, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the scruff and threw him against a tree, pressing him to the bark.

Merlin didn’t have the energy to push him off. Even _with_ energy, he still wouldn’t be able to move the blonde. Arthur could probably bench press four of him.

Annoyance flew through him when he realised Arthur’s chest wasn’t heaving rapidly the way his own did. He also knew the blonde could now feel each and every shaky exhausted breath he took. Why in hell was Arthur pushed so fucking tightly against him anyway?

The wet stench of sweat permeated the air and Merlin felt the first stirrings of exhaustion. _Ha, who was he kidding_ \- he’d been exhausted since he arrived in this country.

“What are you - ”

“Quiet.” Arthur hissed, shutting Merlin up for a moment.

As he fumed at the sharp tone ready to bite back, Merlin realised Arthur was still. Eerily still.

Merlin glanced at his unwilling counterpart. Blue eyes were slitted in concentration as he leant around the large tree, watching where they had burst from the foliage moments ago. Arthur’s gaze darted side to side before he spun, still pressed against Merlin, before once more looking every which way. It took another second for his sluggish scared brain to realise, Arthur was protecting him. _Huh._

A feeling he couldn’t name filled his stomach at this brutish manchild doing something so selfless. Not willing to linger on what it could be, he tried to push Arthur off. Merlin was not in need of protection. _Okay,_ so maybe in some ways he did, but he didn’t require this level. He ignored the little voice of reason that screamed at him to take what Arthur offered. Nope, he would never live it down when they returned to Headquarters. _If_ they made it.

The trouble with pushing Arthur away soon became apparent - he allowed a gap of no more than ten inches between them - and wouldn’t give any more.

“Get off me.” Merlin rasped, not quite understanding why he required Arthur to stop touching him.

“For fucks sake - just wait.” Arthur growled.

The deep rumble of words left Arthur’s body, travelling from Merlin’s toes to his groin and, _yep_ \- that’s why he needed the oaf to retreat. The combination of adrenaline, a near death experience, sweat, and Arthur’s taut body was making ‘little Merlin’ active. Fucking hell in a handbasket, this was the last thing he wanted, needed.

So Merlin did something he hadn't done since facing bullies in middle school, he went boneless. It worked.

The shock of Merlin's body going limp made Arthur move away, and he could finally breathe again without inhaling the blonde’s musky scent. Trouble was, he was fucking exhausted so straightening up and bouncing away didn't really work. He stumbled instead, landing on his knee with a sharp painful jar. _Shit._

“What in hell's name…”

What Merlin didn't expect was the concern bundled with the sharp words, nor the large hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. At the very least he expected to be yelled at. It was all very disconcerting.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt, did something bite you?”

“Uh, I don't _think_ so.” Arthur hadn't let go and Merlin couldn't decide if that was the cause of his heightened senses or if it was just circumstance. This was the first time the blonde had ever not snarked at him. He was feeling jumbled - it was definitely the heat. Definitely.

“There are things that can hurt you here. Like the Green Flash, White Moustaches - ”

Merlin chuckled, “are you naming obscure comic book heros?”

Arthur's hand left his shoulder, Merlin wondered why even in this heat, he missed the warmth. Ugh, he was losing his ability to rationalise, especially as his eyes met Arthur’s and he saw the contemplation behind the gaze.

“I'm serious, apart from animals, there's plants, bugs and trees that can harm you too.”

Merlin threw himself to the side as his eyes landed on the strange looking flowers he'd practically been touching. Looked like old age wasn't going to be a factor in his cause of death. Death by stupidity might be up there. To be fair it was always the front runner.

“Uh, no, those ones are fine, that's a Dark Lady and I think that's a Delicate something, some type of Orchid. I can't actually remember off the top of my head...”

Merlin watched the blonde closely as he clearly tried to recall the name. The little furrow in his brow somewhat mesmerising. _No, it was not_.

He really needed Arthur to be a dick again, get this whole relationship of sorts back to an even playing field - something familiar. Nice Arthur was, well, different.

“Never mind, the name doesn't matter. Come on we need to keep moving, I don't think we've lost them.” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s forearm, hauling him to his feet. It clearly required no effort on the blondes behalf. He found it increasingly difficult not to find being so easily manhandled hot. The fucking jungle was getting to him, seeping into the few brain cells he had left. Arthur Pendragon was not somebody to lust after, to start liking. He recalled Legolas’s little body being flicked across his cubicle - glad when the annoyance bubbled to the surface. That was better.

Grabbing his satchel from the ground, Merlin started after Arthur. Eyes drawn constantly to his broad shoulders and muscular biceps which bunched as he moved branches out the way. Where in actual shit did his arm fetish suddenly come from? Legolas’s demise wasn’t working - he needed a better distraction.

“Ok, so how do you know so much about this jungle stuff?”

Arthur looked back at him incredulously, he shuffled under the gaze, averting his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Well yeah. I mean you don’t look like a wildlife botanist.” He currently looked like a Harlequin cover model, ready to save the damsel in distress. Grumbling, Merlin realised _he_ was the freaking damsel. Today was actually pretty shithouse.

“Merlin - I’m being sent halfway around the world to a remote jungle location, I am _not_ going to turn up oblivious to what could ultimately kill me, other than humans with guns.” He held a large branch for Merlin to grasp so it didn't fling back and smack him. “Didn’t you research at all when you were told you were coming?”

Merlin scowled at the ground as he watched where his next step would land, careful of his now throbbing knee. He did _not_ want to tell Arthur the only things he researched were internet access, local coffee shops and weather.

“Of course I did.” The haughtiness not concealed in the slightest.

Arthur snorted disbelievingly.

Anger bubbled to the surface, “Ok, so maybe I didn’t research floral bouquets, but to be fair I had less than two days notice before I was on the plane.”

Arthur watched him a moment, Merlin unsure on its meaning, “and what did you do on the plane?”

Merlin didn’t respond - playing solitaire on his phone probably wasn’t the answer Arthur was expecting. Actually, it probably was. Merlin was starting to realise Arthur wasn’t the big stupid neanderthal he portrayed. It was sobering.

“Just as I thought, nothing productive. Probably playing games on your phone...”

Merlin snapped, seeing red and pissed Arthur pegged him correctly. “Well at least my lack of productivity didn't fucking give away our position. Sunglasses? Really? Thought you were a professional?”

It took less than a second for Merlin to realise it was the completely wrong thing to say; especially to somebody who portrayed an air of perfection in their work. Arthur stalled, stiffened then slapped the branch he held back at Merlin's head. He resolutely refused to make a noise at how much it stung his temple, his reaction time was so off. Pendragon was acting like a baby. _And you're acting like such an A-grade adult._ Merlin pushed the thought aside.

He wouldn't feel bad about his snark, he refused to. Although he couldn't quite pinpoint why he went straight for the jugular with his comment either. There was something insanely frustrating about the conceited blonde. Something that brought out the worst in him.

No words were spoken for the next four hours, and that was perfectly fine for Merlin, even if his knee thumped in pain and he wanted to complain at every step how exhausted he was. But, he didn't want to give Arthur any ammunition to call him inept - again.

**

As the sunlight waned, Arthur stopped abruptly. He couldn’t pull up quickly due to his knee, so Merlin fell against his back, unable to stop the reaction of grasping the blonde’s shirt in his fist. He shouldn't have felt satisfaction at the small ripping sound.

“Really? Bloody hell, you are the most stubborn person I've ever had the misfortune to be around.”

“Excuse me?” the bite in his words not feigned.

“You've been limping behind me for hours, too bloody 'precious’ to admit you're in pain.”

“I am _not_.”

Arthur turned, brow arched and mouth lifted in a smirk, and why did he look at those lips?

Yep, the pain he'd been terrible at hiding must have made his blood septic, because why would he suddenly not be able to drag his eyes away from a set of pink chapped lips on the biggest arse to ever force him on the run from a drug running syndicate. It was a niche situation.

Arthur bent towards his sore knee and Merlin flinched back unintentionally. The snort of annoyance at his reaction telling. Shit the gig was up.

“We need to stop and take stock of what gear we have. Plus, you need to put that leg up and rest.” The matter of fact statement rankling Merlin. He was not an invalid.

“I really -”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

“Fine,” the petulant tone made him wince. He knew he was acting like a child, but he was in the jungle, lost, in pain, on the run from people who wanted to murder him, and with a man his body suddenly craved on a base level. Merlin was putting this in his top two worst days of his life. Only preceded by when his mum sold his entire back catalogue of Marvel comics, because she thought he’d grown out of his ‘pictured books’ phase. Hunith was still on notice about that.

But, discovering he had a kink for conceited blonde Bondboys was not anticipated. It was obviously just situational. He ignored the same little voice which told him he'd thought of Arthur in that way prior to being on the run. Maybe he was suffering a crisis of sexual identity. Or maybe Arthur was just insanely hot and pushed his buttons in a particular order.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, I wasn't?” He ended on a high pitched question.

Arthur gave him a look which said ‘I don’t believe you’, but thankfully didn’t press further. Instead, Merlin watched as he lifted his arm and fingered the ripped sleeve of his shirt, underarm exposed, tricep muscles taught as he inspected the damage. Merlin’s gaze riveted on the wisps of blonde hair, _was he serious_ \- an underarm kink? He was beginning to think it could be an Arthur kink. He also was well and truly screwed.

“You owe me a shirt.” Arthur deadpanned.

“You shouldn’t stop unexpectedly. I owe you nothing.”

The huff of laughter from Arthur; a cross between annoyance and amusement as he gestured towards him. “You have crap taste in t-shirts anyway.”

Merlin flushed, “I most certainly do not. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can find you a beige t-shirt with ‘Prat’ written on it.”

“Oh, really?”

“I can have it made.”

Arthur arched an eyebrow.

“I know a guy.”

Arthur continued to stare at Merlin, he was now officially rambling.

“Uh, yeah I make my own - so can definitely get you a t-shirt that suits your personality.”

By this stage, Arthur had crossed his arms and was leaning against a tree, Merlin could only guess the expression on his face was indulgent. “Of course you do. Prat?”

“Or arse? Both suit.”

The blonde eyebrow rose higher, Gaius would be proud of the effort. Speaking of…

“Though I'd have to use an asterisk if I go with arse. Gaius would have a shit fit seeing a swear word written down.”

The punch of laughter from the blonde unexpected, yet somehow perfect. _Focus on anything other than how likeable he can be, you idiot_.

A small beep from his bag interrupted them. Shit, the cloning device - it had been transferring the whole time. Well he hoped it had.

Thankful for the reprieve from thinking on inappropriate feelings, he pulled out his phone and saw it had finished. He clicked on the first file just to ensure it hadn’t been corrupted. It appeared to be there in its entirety.

“You had a phone the whole time?” Arthur’s tone sharp.

Merlin looked up, brow furrowed in what he knew was exasperation. He held up the two electronic devices. “Of course, how in hell did you think the data was going to get from here to here?”

Arthur strode over in two steps, which was impressive on the uneven ground. Merlin couldn’t even move as his leg was up on a tree branch, resting his swollen knee. The blonde swiped his phone from his hand, startling Merlin so much, he ended up dropping the cloning box to the ground.

“Fuck. You better not have broken that. What are you doing? Give that back.”

“I’m going to call Agravaine and get us out of here. I can’t believe you had a phone the whole time.”

Merlin bristled at the implied tone. “You may be able to get us away from men with guns, and know what flowers can kill you with a single touch - but you are the biggest dollop-head to roam this forest.”

Arthur’s eyes cut from the phone, slits of fury fell on him, he inhaled sharply. Cold words followed, “and what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Christ, right, well - even if you could get service, which is nigh on impossible unless one of these trees is a disguised Telco tower, don’t you think any outgoing calls would be tracked? It would be like putting a bullseye on our location. Do you _want_ to get caught?”

“I assumed you had an encryption-ny something on it? Or you can make it into a device so you could radio out? You are after all the _tech specialist_.”

Merlin breathed steadily out of his flared nostrils. Only Arthur could make his job sound so insignificant while simultaneously making him feel like a dolt. _And_ he was starting to believe that they were getting along, albeit in a snarky teasing manner. Clearly not.

“How about you stop coming up with these sterling ideas, you really don't know what you’re talking about.” Although, Arthur was actually on the right track, but Merlin didn't want to tell him that. “I would need more gear for starters. I can't be like MacGyver and make a paperclip and chewing gum into a working radio.”

“Who’s MacGyver?”

“What?”

“Is he part of your tech team? He sounds smarter than you, I'll ask for him next time.”

“Are you serious? Like legitimately serious?” When Arthur continued to stare at him in all seriousness, he couldn’t help but to continue. “You legit don't know who MacGyver is? Richard Dean Anderson…”

“Is that his real name? I don't think you should be giving out people's pseudonyms along with their real names. It's really not professional.”

Merlin cupped his face in his hands and sighed deeply, then once more just to take the edge off. He was going to either stab Arthur in the neck with a rusty spoon for being the most obtuse man in the world, because who doesn't know MacGyver? Or Merlin was going to hobble away, saying he was going to the shops for a pack of gum and not come back. But unfortunately as heartwarming as both of those ideas were, he needed Arthur. He couldn't get out of here without him. Then his thoughts snagged on something.

“You said you’d _ask_ for him? Does that mean you asked for me?”

Arthur handed the phone back to Merlin avoiding eye contact. “Of course not.”

Merlin didn’t mention the beginnings of a flush gathering at the base of Arthur’s neck, slowing infusing up towards his face.

“I’m going to scout around, check we are ok here. Then we’ll sleep and keep going in the morning.”

Merlin said nothing and nodded as the blonde walked away. Thoughts jumbling at the possibilities of what it all could mean.

**

Merlin handed Arthur a bottle of water and a ration pack which consisted of surprise jerky meat and a dicey looking protein bar. The blonde took it gratefully.

He had come back after an hour, saying he couldn’t see any sign of their pursuers. Merlin was beyond thankful, unsure whether he could move quickly with his knee, which was feeling much better from the rest, but not quite well enough to flee again.

“Have you looked at any of the data that Lance and I collected?”

Merlin shook his head, then swallowed a bite of his jerky, he'd crossed possum and rat off the list of suspected meat. Not that he'd know their particular taste profiles, but it made him feel better to think it might actually be heavily salted beef. “I broke the encryptions while you were scouting around, but I was under the impression it wasn’t meant for my eyes.”

Arthur sighed, “Well it’s really a moot point now, may as well see what we have. Can you keep it to yourself?”

Before his indignant response could be verbalised, he realised Arthur was smirking at him again, “I’m sure that won’t be an issue.”

The phone screen when switched on, was jarringly bright in their ever darkening spot of the jungle. Arthur came to sit near Merlin then leant over, breath ghosting his neck, Merlin shifted away slightly, stomach rippling at the sensation.

Ignoring the too close man, he scrolled through the files, clicking on a few, “Manifesto’s, flight details, a recipe for gumbo - actually that looks good. I might keep that one to cook.”

Arthur looked at him.

“Uh, well if it’s not a code for weapons dealing or something, obviously.”

“Obviously. You cook?”

“Of course. I live alone and I'm almost thirty. I may fail adulting in many ways but I do know how to feed myself without the use of Uber Eats.”

“Well then.”

“You don’t believe me? Come on over one night, I’ll cook you a roast that will curl your toes.”

Merlin glanced over in the following silence. He'd not meant to blurt that out. He was actually a certified idiot. Arthur's face was close, the blondes chin almost on Merlin’s shoulder.

“You inviting me over for dinner?”

“Uh, no - yes, probably… not...”

Arthur grinned, “but you’re so skinny though.”

Merlin snorted annoyed. “I am _not_ skinny, I am lean. I've really had enough of fucking jocks in my lifetime telling me I'm a weed. You do not need to start as well. I’m healthy, fit and more than able to hold my own.”

Arthur didn’t respond for a moment and Merlin almost started when he felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly before letting go. “You’re right, of course you can. Apologies - I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“Are you really apologising?”

“Uh, no - yes, probably… not...” Arthur threw his earlier words back at him with a smirk. It worked.

“Touche.”

Merlin continued to look at the different files, nothing seemingly important, but judging by the occasional hum of interest from Arthur, some of the information would mean more to Camelot and the mission.

“Wait, what is that?”

Merlin paused at a document, one word jumping out at him. “Magik?”

Arthur swore, “well, fuck - we knew they were drug running, but didn’t know what - this is bad Merlin. We need to get this information back to Camelot as soon as we can.”

“I haven’t heard of Magik before, new on the streets? I think I could probably move now if we need.”

Arthur patted Merlin’s shoulder again and he couldn’t help but feel the burn of contact - why was the blonde touching him so much? It was discombobulating.

“No, we need to rest for the night. You’ll be better on that knee tomorrow. And to answer your question, Magik is not on the streets - well not yet and it would be disastrous if it made it.”

“What does it do?” Arthur’s hand still had not moved. Merlin had also done nothing to dislodge it.

“Essentially it’s a drug similar to a roofie, _methylphenidate_ , but can potentially under the right conditions wipe out years of memory and make you susceptible for false memories. You could have your entire identity rewritten. Or so the early stages of testing say.”

“Oh my God, it sounds like a plot from Harry Potter come to life.”

“Who?”

“Don't even, Arthur. If you don't know who that is, you're a robot.”

“Better a robot than a Death Eater...” The blondes returning grin certainly didn't make his chest pulse with warmth. Damn Arthur for being even more gorgeous when teasing. The thought that Arthur knew Harry Potter made his insides jumble in hope that he wasn’t a complete write off. Though, honestly you couldn’t be called English and _not_ know who that was. It was practically taught in school. For the love of God, he really needed to get this back to a semi-professional level.

“Right, so yeah - this is serious. Look if we can get to a computer, or an internet cafe or something, I can use my interface and send an encrypted file to Camelot.”

“You can’t do that from your phone?”

“Files too big, it would take too long and give away our position if they are tracking outgoing signals - but give me three minutes with a computer with a decent internet connection and it’ll be done.”

The impressed look Arthur bestowed on him, made his stomach clench in pride. He had finally said something to earn begrudging admiration from Arthur. He shouldn’t care in the slightest, he wasn’t too surprised to realise he actually _did_ care. This fucking jungle was the worst for his ability to reason laterally.

“It’s a plan. Tomorrow we get out of here, find civilisation, a computer then try and get out of the country unnoticed. It’ll be a cake walk.”

“Please don’t mention cake.”

Arthur held up the rest of his protein bar and Merlin grinned, shaking his head. “I’m good, plus it lacks that certain something - you know, taste?”

Arthur chuckled and Merlin was a goner. On one chuckle - _well fuck_.

**

After Arthur had double backed to try and cover their tracks, he poked a dozing Merlin with a finger.

“Hey, wake up. We’d best go, I’ve found a tree we can sleep in tonight. Get at least a few hours of sleep before we start again tomorrow.”

His groggy brain tried to catch up. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said tree.”

“I did.” Arthur frowned at him. Merlin knew he was not being unreasonable in his question. Tired, but not unreasonable.

“I am _not_ sleeping in a tree.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll fall out.”

The laugh was unexpected. “You’ll fall out?”

“Don’t mimic me!”

Arthur sighed, “I really wasn’t.”

“I’m a nervous sleeper.”

“A nervous sleeper?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Bloody hell, what does a nervous sleeper even mean?”

“I toss and turn.”

“Right, so you’re afraid of heights and scared you’ll throw yourself out of a tree?” Arthur stared at him, and Merlin narrowed his eyes. Was he laughing at him? What a fucking Pillock.

“No, I didn’t say that. I’m not afraid.”

Arthur raised a brow, he was getting too good at that.

“Not afraid,” he reiterated. “But I _am_ restless.”

“Fine.” Arthur stated, standing up, Merlin felt the loss of heat keenly. It wasn’t even that cold yet, though he knew it would get cooler overnight. He was glad his hoodie was shoved in the bottom of his bag.

“Fine, as in we are _not_ sleeping in a tree, fine?”

“No. We are sleeping in a tree, unless you want a snake or centipede curling into your shirt during the night.”

“Uh - tree sounds delightful.”

“You’ll just have to sleep with me.”

The sentence was loaded and Merlin’s eyes bugged, he knew it, he almost felt them leave his skull.

“I scouted before, there’s a tree with a wide Y. We’ll both fit into it.”

“Together?”

“Of course, you won’t fall from tossing if you’re wedged into a tree with me. Plus, we’ll share keeping guard, so one of us will always be awake.”

He eyed the blonde - _nope_ , he couldn’t sleep up against him. All of that broad largeness and muscles would surely kill him in the night - from unrequited lust. Another form of tossing went through his mind unbidden.

“Come on.”

As Arthur dragged him to a large tree which actually didn’t look like he’d swan dive from it easily, he knew this was going to be difficult. Even more so when the blonde grabbed his thigh and tried to help him into the branches.

“Ow, what the hell do you have in your pocket?”

Before he could protest, Arthur flipped open the pouch on his cargo pants and pulled out the small figurine of Bilbo.

“Uh, a token from home.”

“Are you for real? You have a toy with you? Are you six?”

Merlin bristled under the tone. What an arrogant, mightier than thou prick. “Once again, not a toy.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Don’t touch him. I'm still recovering from Legolas’ demise.”

“You need a life…” Arthur huffed, placing Bilbo back and shoved Merlin gracelessly into the tree. He ignored the mumbles about needing to grow up and be serious. He was not about to apologise for what he liked, not to this Pillock at any rate.

It was not Merlin’s fault that Arthur had a ‘no fun’ stick rammed up his arse. As he settled into the branch he forced himself to not think about his arse again. Then Arthur hauled himself in to the tree easily, muscles bulging enticingly, before he stood next to Merlin’s sprawled form, scouting the area for movement. Ok, he’d admit, at eye level, Pendragons arse was pretty damn magnificent. Too bad it was attached to such a dick. He let that extra thought about anatomy slide.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this entire fiction came from that one paragraph about MacGyver that I couldn't get out of my head for days...
> 
> It may be lacking a little in action, but I do love when these boys start to tolerate each other!
> 
> Thanks for the kudos so far - appreciate the love!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update :)


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin awoke with a startle, a branch digging into his back and a hand over his mouth. He panicked.

“Shhhh.”

The deep almost silent murmur fluttered against his ear. _Arthur._

A shaky breath escaped as his limbs began to loosen, until he heard voices. Voices which came from directly underneath them. His heart ratcheted up a notch.

He was sure they weren't followed. Arthur had dragged them back and forth across the jungle for a day to ensure it. Looks like they underestimated their worth.

Knowing he had to stay motionless, Merlin remained stiff and unyielding. Arthur at his side was just as taut and suddenly the branch in his back was becoming unbearable. All because he knew he _couldn’t_ move.

As he struggled with the urge to just yell ‘screw it’ and jump down to his fate, a bright flare of sunlight caught his eye. Dawn had broken on the horizon. From his vantage point in the tree, he watched hues of orange and yellow seep into the sky. It was truly breathtaking, marred only by the snap of undergrowth directly below them. Arthur’s arm stiffened around his waist, and…

Merlin gulped.

How had he not noticed before?

He’d woken up in a tree with Arthur Pendragon cuddling him. There was no other way to phrase it. He took stock of their position. Arthur’s leg curled over and around his thigh, arm thrown across his middle, fingers dangerously grazing his exposed hip and a head close enough to be able to whisper in his ear.

A wave of heat flew through his body when the branch digging into his back twitched. Holy hell, it was no bloody branch. Arthur Pendragon was hard, rock hard; pushed so tight against his body and he could feel every glorious inch of it.

Merlin’s cock began to swell. Well, fuck - perfect timing.

“I can’t see anything else other than a few snapped brushes where they walked through. One of them is injured judging by the footprints and someone sat heavily for an hour or two about two hundred metres that way.”

Merlin only half listened, berating himself at the same time because what was happening below them was of paramount importance. But, he had a cock of epic proportions on him, in more ways than one.

He had no idea what to think, how this would play out. He knew it was a natural reaction, hell, he'd popped a boner in more than a hundred inappropriate situations in his life but this was Arthur. Arthur hated him. He hated Arthur. The lie didn't stick. Shit, he didn't want to deal with this crisis of self right now.

‘OK, we start there and circle out - we can’t let them escape, we don’t know what information they’ve managed to gather and that woman from their camp isn’t saying anything. We may as well kill her when we get back to base if she won't talk.”

Thoughts crowded, who the hell were they talking… He sucked a breath through his nose, Gwen. They had to be talking about her. All thoughts about his current predicament fled in the realisation that someone was in terrible trouble.

At first it had been easy to think of this entire operation as a semi-holiday from his normal humdrum life. But it was apparent now, this was no holiday. The information his device had collected was now proving to be life or death. This was _not_ one of his computer games. He finally admitted he may just be in over his head.

The voices disappeared into the distance and he waited another ten minutes before moving awkwardly away from Arthur. _No eye contact, Emery's, don't give him eye contact_.

He needed to think about something else, do something else, hell, say something else.

Merlin always assumed if he was in a situation where his life was in danger he'd roll over, belly up and beg for his life. He in essence was a coward. He got scared when there was an unknown number calling and had on more than one occasion pretended not to be home as an unsolicited knock rapped at his front door.

So when the words vomited from his mouth he was more surprised than anyone.

“You want to what?” Arthur's tone incredulous.

“Save Gwen.”

“No, I got that part, but-”

“But nothing, she's in trouble, a part of our team and if I was in her situation I know she'd come for me.” He watched as Arthur ran a hand over his face, pinching his nose between thumb and forefinger at the end of it.

Arthur groaned before responding. “Yes, I said I got all of that  I'm not disagreeing. I'm definitely going-”

“ _We're_ going.” He interrupted.

Arthur watched him a moment, “look, I appreciate the offer, but this is your first field outing, you’re not part of the Knights Guard. You do know these people are using live rounds? They won't hesitate to shoot first-”

“I’m all you have, Pendragon. So utilise the skills I’ve got and stop being a pretentious Bondboy. Lives are at risk and we don’t have time to argue about this.”

He was scared, out of his damn wits scared, but he was not going to show Arthur, even though he was certain the blonde could tell. He also hoped he wouldn’t argue further, because Merlin had no idea how far his resolve would hold on this.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“You’re right, of course you are always bloody right. Spare me from self-righteous IT nerds.”

“Hey!”

The tilt of Arthur’s lips, spread a feeling of rightness throughout Merlin’s adrenaline fueled body, making it easier for him to think. They had to get a plan together. A plan which had more chance of failing than not. But Merlin had just found out, he was a man who would stand up when the chips were down and do the right thing. It was a heady sensation, finding out what your true worth was, what kind of person you had become.

As Arthur helped him down from the tree, explaining his plan as he went, Merlin began to realise that the Kings Guard were not full of neanderthal-like boneheads who shoot first and asked questions later. They put their lives on the line for others in trouble. Of course they were conceited, arrogant and unfriendly on occasions; most likely because fostering close relationships would be hard with people who couldn't understand or fathom their life and the hard choices they made in the field.

It was a revelation - Merlin felt for the first time in his life he actually understood and was on an even playing field with Arthur. And didn’t that fuck with his preconceived notion on the blonde.

**

They’d split up about fifteen minutes earlier, Merlin sweating more in fear and adrenaline than the heat. He didn’t think he’d get used to the unbearable warmth before eight in the morning, but as the sun beat down on him heavily between the trees, it almost felt like a new normal. He really needed to get back to the cold embrace of an English winter, or he’d settle for a shower, that would be pure heaven. A cold shower and not sneaking through the underbrush _towards_ the people who were trying to catch them. It was going against every instinct he had. You were supposed to run from danger, not meet it head on. His newly found respect for Arthur and the Kings Guard was completely warranted.

The plan was simple, Arthur would distract, Merlin would sneak in and free Gwen. Not perfect - flawed in so many ways - but it was all they could do. Merlin argued at first, saying he should do the distracting, but Arthur rightly looked at him in disdain and asked if he knew how to disappear into a jungle and if not, could he fight to the death if need be, especially with a bung knee. He squeaked out he was most definitely more suited to sneaking in and getting Gwen. He just hoped Arthur made enough of a ruckus, so all the people out here searching for them would follow. He was certain he could take out one person using the element of surprise, even if his heart thumped out of his chest at the thought of it. But if more stayed behind - he was screwed.  

So far, things seemed to be going according to plan. Five of the six people had sped off after Arthur when he came stumbling into the clearing, Gwen’s head shooting up in surprise, before he ran back out jumping over bushes and ducking under branches. Merlin was casing the area for more people before heading in to untie Gwen’s legs and get them the hell out of Dodge.

He was just about to make the mad dash, building himself up to it for the last minute by yelling ‘go’ in his head a thousand times (and not going). When suddenly all the men plus one extra returned, a familiar and bloody blonde dragged between them. They must have had someone out in the jungle as a precaution. _Fuck, why didn't they think of that?_

Merlin’s stomach dropped from his body, the absolute certainty that Arthur was dead or dying flowed through him. Dread filled every molecule in his body as they threw his limp body next to Gwen. Her short gasp heard over the chattering of the men who’d just caught him.

Suddenly he couldn’t see, his eyes welled but he refused to let himself feel anything more. He squashed all his anguish in a box marked 'later’ and if he were honest, it was getting pretty crowded in that box.

Blinking the tears clear, Merlin sat back on his haunches and tried to think how he could help. He could do this, he would _have_ to do this. If there was any chance Arthur was alive and Gwen could be saved, he would take it.

He snuck back out of immediate range of the group and opened his backpack, taking stock of what he had. A plan began to form, could he pull it off? Most likely not. It was reckless, stupid and most certainly would end up with him being caught and executed. But what choice did he have?

**

Twenty minutes later, Merlin walked into the clearing, heart clammering in his ears and wondering what in hell possessed him to do this.

“What the actual fuck are you doing, you simpleton?” Arthur’s familiar drawl, music to his ears. _Thank God._ He was ok.

He ignored the blonde, as three men grabbed him and pushed him to his already sore knees, a gun at his head already. He really hadn’t thought this through.

“I want to speak to the person in charge.”

A throaty chuckle came from a gun wielding dark haired man, “I don’t think you are in any position to be demanding anything.”

“If you want the information we took, then yes I think I am.”

The man lowered the gun and walked into Merlin’s line of vision. He was still unfortunately on his knees and being held by two people. Which in itself seemed ridiculous, he would be lucky to fight off one person, who was half his size, weight and was ten years old. He needed to sign up for that kick-boxing class at his local gym when he got home.

“Talk. I’m in charge.”

The voice was familiar, it was one of the men who had spoken beneath the tree he and Arthur were stuck in, which felt like a lifetime ago, not two hours. The man was middle age, had dark hair, a large nose and hazel eyes in a nondescript kind of way. Merlin could pass him on the street in two months time and not recognise him. It was frankly a little scary. “I’ll give you what you want, but you have to let us go.”

“Sure, why not.”

“What? Really?”

The derisive laugh, irking Merlin to no end. Conceited prick.

“Of course not, but I promise you, I will make your deaths quick.”

“Well to be completely honest, that doesn’t really sound like a great deal. Not dying would be better.” The bravado was coming out of nowhere. He should be begging for their lives, not antagonising people.

The man smiled, smarmy, arrogant and eyes as cold and ruthless as Merlin had ever seen. How he ever thought Arthur shared some of these traits, he didn’t know. Arthur’s conceitedness came from a hero complex, this man was on a whole different level of cruel.

“Look in his backpack.” The man smirked when Merlin stiffened at the words.

Seconds later, the bag was ripped from his back, the zip pulled noisily apart; rummaging followed, then the cloning device was thrown from behind Merlin’s line of vision and caught in one hand by the man before him. He heard Arthurs quiet curse, and ignored him. He didn’t want to look that way and lose his nerve, the small amount he had of it anyway. His stomach was threatening to revolt from the fear running through his body.

“What is this?”

“Battery pack.” Merlin deadpanned. The man struck him across the face with his gun without warning. No one told Merlin that pain from a hard object slamming into your face, felt like your cheek had splintered into tiny pieces, and that your eyes would water to such a degree you were effectively blind. If they had, he wouldn't have believed them, but a heads up might have been nice.

The sharp hellish throb well and truly hit a second later. Hollywood was full of shit - this was potentially fucking crippling.

Blinking through tears, Merlin straightened up again, ignoring the need to cup his face. Sharp spikes of agony preceded the wet slickness of blood trickling down his cheek. His mum was going to kill him, Christmas card photos ruined… _again._

At least he was getting the whole spy experience. Though he wasn’t sure if he liked it. There was a decided lack of fast cars, casino’s filled with beautiful people and an unlimited stock of technical gadgets. He really wanted an invisible car, maybe next mission.

“Leave him the fuck alone, I’m the one you want.” Arthur's hoarse voice loud and shaky across the space, distracting Merlin from his inner cascading thoughts. He'd never heard the blonde sound so… uncontrolled.

“Yes, but we already have you, don’t we. This little morsel is much more intriguing. He doesn’t look like you two, he’s clearly not part of your strike team, not used to fighting.”

Merlin resisted the urge to argue that he was still number one on the Mortal Kombat game at his local arcade and was a very proficient fighter. He was certain he might get hit again if he mentioned it. Three years he’d held that title - he was damn proud of it.

The man swung again, Arthur’s cry stopped him mid-strike. Merlin winced, waiting for the blow which didn’t land.

“You have something to add before I smash this pretty face into pulp?”

Merlin finally looked at Arthur, shaking his head, “don’t.”

Their eyes met and held; the softening around the blondes as his gaze lingered, surprising Merlin enough he caught his breath. He knew in that moment, Arthur was going to try and save him. The bloody fool. The perfect, gorgeous bloody fool.

“The device. It has all the information on it we have, we know about Magik, we know what your delivery schedule looks like, we know where you’re manufacturing it from and with any luck the agency already knows and the rest of your group has been arrested.”

“You are not as clever as you look. There have been no outgoing transmissions from the jungle for the last three days. No one has this information, no one but me now.” The man placed the device in a small bag attached to his waist. “Do you honestly think we are the only operation? You government spies are all the same, you have no idea how big this is. And you never will.”

The man raised his gun at Arthur, Merlin jerked forward but was held tight by the man at his shoulder. He refused to look away from Arthur, what the fuck happened? Why hadn’t his -

A ringtone, clear as day a hundred metres to the left went off. Relief coursed heavily through Merlin, making him slightly lethargic as he slumped. The man let his gun drop in surprise.

“Go. Find out who is here.” Men flew out of the clearing at his command, towards the sound of the Mario Theme on replay. That left only three men, still too many for Merlin to do anything about. He glanced around looking for anything that would help, but apart from tree branches and moss - nothing. The man in charge was still before him, watching contemplatively and another continued to hold him down on his knees. _Shit_.

Suddenly a loud bang went off, followed closely by a whistling noise. A huge burst of orange filled the sky nearby. The leader jerked in surprise before watching the bright trail of colour creep into the sky.

“A flare gun,” he all but whispered to himself before turning to his comrades. “Fuck, we need to find the group who set this off and deal with them - now! We can’t be compromised, there is too much riding on this delivery. You take care of these three and I’ll meet you back at the base.”

As the man holding the cloning device disappeared with another man into the jungle, Merlin jumped to his feet, grasping a rotted looking branch as he went. It was now or never.

The man with the tenuous grip on his shoulders jumped back in surprise, instinctually raising his gun as Merlin turned. Arthur’s warning yell drowned out by Merlin's bellowed, “Judo Chop!”

The tree branch smashed across the man’s head with a sickening thud, just as the gun went off. Sharp heat sliced through Merlin’s side. He'd thought his face was on fire from being hit, but it was nothing compared to the burning excruciating sensation in his side. He dropped to his knee and howled in pain - it was his fucking swollen knee too, of course.

It took longer than it should have to realise he’d been shot. The air thickened around him as the clearing blurred.

“Merlin!”

The anguished shout pulled him back from the brink of passing out. Making it to his feet again, he stumbled one way, before righting himself. He had to make it to the others, else this was all for nothing.

At what point in Camelot's field training did they explain what getting shot felt like? He was going to write a stern letter to the department telling them their bullet wounding lesson needed work.

He had no idea how long the man he hit would be out for; glancing over he noticed he’d not moved since the branch had splintered into shards from the force. He grabbed at his side not wanting to look at the damage because once more, Hollywood had it wrong and he was certain he couldn’t shake this off and keep running around in the jungle. He also tried not to think about all the things he could catch with open wounds. Maybe Arthur would be able to reel a list off of local bacteria from his research, he laughed. It sounded hysterical so he swallowed it immediately.

Untying Gwen first, she thankfully took over and released Arthur as Merlin slumped onto his good knee and gasped breath in. He was done.

Hands, large and warm cupped his chin, lifting it slowly, blue eyes narrowed in concentration as they looked over his face, lingering on his smashed cheek. Arthur winced when his fingers ghosted over the area. Merlin held still, not flinching. The blonde’s expression indecipherable as his hand landed on Merlin’s shoulder, thumb stroking featherlight traces over the side of his neck for a moment. He involuntarily shivered at the contact, it was surreal, the hurt in his body muted at Arthur’s careful touch.

“You idiot, you absolute idiot.”

Arthur let go with what Merlin’s hazy brain concluded as reluctance, and seconds later fingers probed his side and he finally flinched away with a grunt of pain. “That’s not very nice, considering I just saved your life.”

Pressure on his wound made him see stars and he swotted ineffectively at Arthur’s head which was bent over in concentration, inspecting the area. Arms encircled him and he slumped into the embrace, which he soon realised wasn’t a hug of affection. Arthur was merely tying his hoodie around him, right over the most tender part, bloody prat. He was in too much pain to be embarrassed at his neediness for human contact.

Arthur huffed out a breath in amusement. “Judo Chop?”

Merlin grinned then grimaced at the pain it caused. “It seemed fitting.”

“We have to go. Is he alright?” Gwen interrupted, dark eyes concerned as she and Arthur helped him to his feet.

“The bullet hit him in the side, it went right through. Thank god it’s not lodged in his body, but he needs medical attention, more than we can give. Can you walk, Merlin?”

Merlin knew he couldn’t, not really, not as fast as they had to, but nodded he was fine. He would do the best he could, and if they had to leave him behind, well, so be it.

Arthur’s warm arm grasped Merlin around his back, steadying him and he couldn’t help but lean into the blonde gratefully once more. Gwen paved a way for them, looking back, worry etched in her eyes, he must look worse than he thought.

“How on Earth did you manage this?” She asked.

Talking was hard, and he hissed a breath through his teeth, but managed to get out a relatively coherent sentence. “Ringtone in jungle, my phone… on timer to distract. Flare set up on a trigger... attached to vine, someone tripped over it... it went off.”

“Clever. Thanks for saving us, Merlin.” Gwen batted a branch out of the way, her voice holding a grateful note.

Arthur was quiet for the longest moment. “But at what cost? They have everything now.”

Merlin was about to snark a reply that maybe he shouldn’t have bothered, when a wave of dizziness hit him and he felt his entire body begin to slump. He couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Leave me, save yourselves,” he managed to husk out as the world tilted again.

“Don't be so bloody melodramatic.” Arthur's voice trailed off, and his grip tightened. “Fuck, Merlin - you with me? Gwen get over here…”

Arthurs panicked voice was the last thing he heard before the entire jungle blacked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have to love a well placed cliff hanger... sorry - sort of... not really... :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update and the boys getting - closer *ahem
> 
> Thanks for the love so far - makes my little heart sing!


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin woke up like he'd just been shot. Then he groaned because, well, he had been. Slumping back against the pillow which was flatter than a doormat, he winced as he trailed a hand over the thick wad of bandages on his side. _Fuck._

He'd been shot.

Actually shot with a gun.

A gun with a real bullet.

And survived.

“Huh,” wait until Gwaine found out. He'd now officially surpassed his friends stepping on a rusty nail story he'd been peddling since he was eight.

He took note that his face was bandaged, as was his knee and various other scrapes had been seen to. Embarrassed, he looked down to see his Sherlocked underwear and nothing else. Whoever helped him, copped an eyeful; the shorts were way too tight for public consumption. At least it made his package look impressive, _and_ these were not the normal thoughts of a freshly shot man.

The door clicked open and he tensed, letting out a breath when he saw Gwen’s familiar form. He pushed aside the small pang that Arthur wasn’t already in the room with him. Clearly he was on drugs if he hoped to find an exhausted Arthur sleeping next to him, hands tangled after watching worriedly over him all night. He’d been watching too many Hallmark movies recently.

“Hey,” Gwen brought over a carafe of water, carefully pouring some while Merlin managed to slide himself up with a grimace into a half sitting position. He took the glass gratefully and gulped it down in one go.

“I feel like the freaking Mummy. The Brendan Fraser one, not the Tom Cruise version. I mean obviously with a less tragic backstory, and no love of my life to avenge...” Gwen’s small snort of laughter, pulled him from his rambling. “I also hate sand, gets all in your… Ok, enough, sorry. Um, how long was I out?”

“Only until we got here, you’ve been in this bed about twenty minutes.”

“Cool, err, did you carry me all the way out of the jungle?”

Her smile turned slightly down at the edges, “no, uh, no. Arthur essentially wouldn’t let you go until we managed to get to the medics on the helicopter.”

Merlin let the overly dramatic image of Arthur cradling his limp body, wash through him a moment. It made something deep inside of him warm and hopeful. “Helicopter? What about Camelots’ cover? Are the others OK, Lance?”

“Lance,” Gwen paused and turned away, he watched as she squared her shoulders. “Lance, hasn’t made contact yet.”

He let the silence draw out a moment. _Shit_ , that couldn’t be a good sign.

“Cover was blown when the camp was discovered, we made it back there, it was decimated. But Arthur managed to raise an emergency tracker. Helicopter came soon after, and here we are.”

“You OK?” he asked, knowing it was the most ridiculous question on the planet.

“Honestly?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I’m peachy, everything is going according to plan, and I just put in a request for a unicorn, they’re super cheap over here.” The wan smile she gave him, grateful.

“I’m hanging out for a pegasus myself, give me the name of your supplier when you can.” He grinned, face only slightly stiff, still sore, but ok. “So, where _is_ Arthur?”

Gwen took a deep breath, pouring him another glass of water. “On a teleconference with Agravaine. Telling him we lost the intel.”

Merlin stiffened, water spilling coldly on his chest. “Fuck, no - I mean, I need a computer.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain later, can you help me?”

“They have one in reception, but it’s three in the morning? Can it wait?”

Merlin crawled out of bed towards his cargo pants, failing miserably at putting them on, so he flung them around his neck instead and limped to the door. The reply over his shoulder, curt. “Nope.”

“Want me to help get your pants on?”

Merlin ignored Gwens mocking tone as he walked out the door, then immediately had no idea where to go once he hit the hallway. It was a hotel of some description, long hallway, rooms off each side. What floor he was on, he didn’t know, where reception was located, he also didn’t know. A sharp flare of pain in his side ignited, before lessening to a dull throb.

“He’s going to kill me.” Gwen said as she grasped Merlin’s elbow, which was legitimately the only part of his body not bruised or broken and tugged him to an elevator. Not knowing who Gwen spoke about, he allowed the brunette to take charge.

They made it to reception where the wide eyed man behind the counter gave them internet access. Honestly, it was like he'd never seen a half naked bandaged man in the early hours of the morning before.

Merlin sat himself down and immediately logged in, pulling up Camelots encrypted site. Gwen watched over his shoulder as he tried and failed to connect to the secure server.

“Fuck…” he typed madly, fingers flying across the keys as he attempted to gain access to their back door. This had to work.

It didn’t.

He slumped back in the chair, carefully rubbing his face, avoiding the bandages. What could he do now, how in hell was he supposed to save the world if Camelot wouldn’t let him in?

“Gwen, I need a phone.” There was no hesitation as she passed him a mobile from her back pocket. He noticed the background, a candid photo of Lance and Gwen at a concert; grins wide and carefree.

Letting out a deep sigh, he hoped Lance would be fine, he was after all a professional. He also didn't have the same burden Arthur carried through the jungle - him. The life of an active field agent wasn’t as appealing anymore.

Dialing a number he knew by heart, Merlin cradled the phone between his shoulder and the good side of his face, if there was such a thing as a good side.

It rang out.

He dialed again.

It rang out, once more.

“Bloody hell, come on.” He hissed as he tried again. Finally there was an answer.

“What the actual fuck? If you are selling raffle tickets I will find you. I have a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career when dealing with -”

“Gwaine, it’s me - I need your help.”

“Merlin? Holy shit!”

Smiling, he held the phone away from his ear as Gwaine started to yell, then he heard a deep baritone in the background ask, “who is it love?”

A muffled conversation followed before Gwaine came back, still talking to the other person.

“Yes, yes he’s fine, what - you want me to ask about… fine uh, - Arthur, is he ok too?”

He waited a beat before replying, the wide grin on his face, hurting his cheek. “He's fine. Is that Percy I hear? You sly dog.”

“No. Definitely not Percy. No... I wasn’t talking to you - oh for fucks sake.”

Chuckling into the phone, he couldn’t help but be glad, Percy was a keeper and would be good for his best mate. The image of Arthur popped unhelpfully into his mind at that moment. “As liberating as this conversation is, I’m sending you something. I need you to decrypt it and send it on to Camelot now, Agravaine to be precise. They won’t let me in, I can’t crack their security, which is odd.”

“Shit, that’s right - OK, so when you went missing a few days ago, they rewrote all security protocols and access in case you were compromised. Err, you're not compromised now are you? Say lollipop for yes, or deepthroat for no…”

“Gwaine,” he warned, then relentent, “deepthroat.”

Gwen’s sharp look made Merlin glad his face was practically covered and the red heat to his cheeks wasn’t obvious. But Gwaine’s words sobered something in him. He could only imagine what information the drug runners could have tortured out of him about the gadgets he worked on at Camelot. He always thought of his job as a glorified IT helpdesk consultant. But he knew stuff, stuff that could potentially slip past government defenses and give away secrets. He was, in fact - important.

“Can you do it, it needs to go yesterday?” He asked, trying not to think about the other scenarios which could have played out. The naivety that being shot was the worst thing to have happened, sat crookedly in his gut.

“Yep. Send it through.”

Merlin heard Gwaine move, followed by keystrokes as he logged in. Merlin in the meantime set himself up.

“Is that…” Gwen trailed off in a huff of laughter as she pointed at Merlin's hand.

Merlin smiled up at her, “Of course it is.”

Three minutes later, he logged off after telling Gwaine not to break Percy’s heart, and to use a condom. He then sank down in the uncomfortably stiff foyer chair, exhausted. He literally had no stamina left.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room. You’re dead on your feet, well, your arse.”

They made it to the hallway, when the door next to Merlin’s room slammed open, and a furious Arthur barrelled down on them. The blonde stopped short, blue narrowed eyes raked over Merlin hungrily, who suddenly realised he was only wearing too small shorts and pants around his neck like a haphazard scarf. He resisted the urge to cover himself up. Instead stood as straight as he could in his condition, not missing the sharp inhalation from Arthur. _Oh._

“You should be in bed,” He jabbed a finger into Merlin’s chest, which was bare. The feeling of Arthur's skin against him intoxicating; it was just a bloody fingertip - which was still touching him. _What the hell?_

“Gwen?” The blonde demanded, eyes never leaving Merlin’s.

“Uh - we...”

“Actually, save it. Go to bed. I’ve got this.”

Merlin glanced down, Arthur’s finger had now turned into a hand splayed across his sternum. This was the strangest interaction in a hotel hallway he’d ever had, and for some reason it was making him hot. And not, I've been shot and am running a fever kind of hot. He totally wanted to climb Arthur like a tree, you know, if his knee didn't hurt so much and he could bend it. Getting old was not fun.

Arthur grabbed his arm and practically yanked him back to his room, slamming the door shut behind them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Merlin limped to the bed, ignoring the fury laced words. Arthur was being a dick again. “Getting into bed.”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“I wouldn’t _dream_ of taking your job.”

Wincing, he sunk himself onto the ridiculously low bed, only allowing the smallest sound of discomfort to escape. He sat on the edge, and looked up at Arthur; the blondes’ brow furrowed in displeasure.

“Technically I’m your superior, you shouldn’t speak to me like that.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Merlin replied sarcastically, noting the stiffening of Arthur’s shoulders as he watched Merlin press on his side, grimacing at the soreness.

“Have you had your pain meds?”

“Of course. I’m no hero - I’m not going to try and get through the first day without help.”

Arthur grumbled something about heroes and stupidity then looked back at him, eyes travelling from Merlin’s face, then lower. He realised he hadn’t climbed back into bed, he was leaning back on the edge, legs spread slightly, everything practically on display. Mind you, the bandages covered up most of his nakedness.

When Arthur’s gaze skipped back to his face, a slight tinge of red coloured his neck, spreading to his cheeks. It was probably the hottest and sweetest thing Merlin had ever seen.

“Agravaine wants a full report on what you read from the files, he believes any intel will hopefully help this clusterfuck we’ve found ourselves in.” Arthur ran a hand over his face tiredly, and Merlin had the realisation that he would be utterly exhausted and worried he’d fucked up his mission. He could at least fix some of this.

“So... maybe not.”

Merlin fumbled at his cargo pants, untangling them from his neck, not missing the way Arthur watched him intently as more skin was revealed. He was finding the air thicker, harder to inhale, or maybe it was the heady gaze which still hadn’t left his form. How on earth was just a look making him swoon, making him itchy under his skin?

Arthur’s eyes rounded as Bilbo Baggins was revealed from his pocket. Merlin flipped the legs apart, showing the micro USB port inside.

“Is that…?”

“Yep, you didn’t really think I was a complete rookie did you? I did a transfer of the three main files from my phone before I gave myself up, that’s all I had time for. We lost the rest, including the gumbo recipe. Gwaine has the files and by now Agravaine will have the intel.”

“Why in hell didn’t you tell me?”

“You were being a dick.” He stated matter of fact with a shrug.

Arthur threw a hand in the air and growled, “Only because I thought you were compromised. Plus - it was the stupidest plan on earth.”

“Stupid, yes, though it saved yours and Gwen’s life.”

“I get that, but you could have lost yours in the process.” Merlin didn’t miss the slight hitch in Arthur’s words.

“But I didn’t.”

“Not the point. It was still reckless and stupid.” By this stage Arthur had moved closer in his anger, close enough Merlin had to lean back slightly so he could see his face. His own anger and annoyance burst from him.

“Arthur, if you’re not careful, I may start to think you care about what the fuck happens to me.”

Arthur stopped dead, the finger which had been pointing at Merlin dropping to his side. He watched with hooded eyes a moment, then suddenly dropped to his knees before Merlin, sliding between his open thighs. Merlin managed to gasp in one surprised breath before Arthur’s lips crashed against his own.

Everything about the slide of Arthur’s perfectly soft pink mouth was glorious. Painful, but worth every spike of hurt through his cheek, which he didn’t hide well.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry -” Arthur ground out as he reluctantly leaned back.

“Don’t be -” Merlin managed sharply as he grasped Arthur’s t-shirt in his fist, dragging him back in. The smile on Arthur’s lips disappearing when Merlin deepened the kiss, tongue pressing into Arthur’s heat. The growl deep in the blonde’s throat, reverberating through Merlin, cock hardening in mere seconds.

“Oh Christ,” Arthur husked as his lips trailed to Merlin’s neck, nipping, licking and creating twitches of lust which flew through Merlin’s body. He’d not felt this aware of anyone in his life, he was certain of it. Arthur’s arms carefully encircled him, hands grasping his butt, pulling him forward so he was intimately pressed against Arthur's growing hardness. It was perfect.

Grinding hurt slightly, but there was no way Merlin was going to stop, not now, not ever. Well, not if he had a say in it. He yanked Arthur back from his neck; open mouthed, wet kisses followed as the pressure grew in his gut.

“Wanted this, so long. Fucking cheekbones and sass.” Arthur ground out and pulled back, gazing into Merlin’s eyes. He grinned in return and pushed forward in one long slide, they were both so sensitised to the other, it was amazing.

“Yeah? Arrogant arseholes seem to be my kink.” He waited a beat before following it up, “I want you to fuck me into this mattress - hard.”

Arthur gaped, before laughing. “Bossy aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I might though, but no, not tonight.” Arthur kissed him again, intensifying it slowly, licking deep into his mouth so he couldn’t breathe. It left him gasping for air, craving more, needing more. “ _When_ I fuck you, I want to be able to do everything and more. As hot and filthy as your fucking request is, you’re hurt and I’m not reopening your wounds.”

Merlin couldn’t help but reluctantly agree, but he wanted it, he wanted something, he was way too keyed up for it to dissipate by itself. Arthur sensed his unspoken desire and thankfully acted on it. Underwear was torn from their bodies as the blonde crowded closer, aligning their cocks up again.

“That underwear should be outlawed, could they be any fucking tighter?”

Merlin couldn’t speak, the bare silken skin against his own sensitised dick felt magical. He was certain his brain was melting. He gasped when Arthur spat in his hand crudely, wrapping a large fist around the both of them. This man...

Dirty, hard and fast is how Merlin craved it, and Arthur delivered on every front. Bringing Merlin to the edge again and again before finally allowing him to come, exhausted, twitching and mouthing Arthur’s chest in spasms. The blonde followed soon after.

Carefully, Arthur cleaned Merlin off, swinging him onto the bed properly, Merlin snuggled immediately into the mattress, clinging to the blonde who’s gruff laugh of compliance preceded his weight joining Merlins.

“I can’t believe a bloody  _toy_ saved the mission.”

“I can’t believe you’re surprised. Still not a toy though...” Merlin’s words petering out at the end, due to feeling sated and warm.

Arthur chuckled against his side, “get some sleep.”

Merlin didn’t want to, he wanted to bask in the newness that was Arthur’s mouth, shoulders, taut thighs, and _god_ , his mouth-watering cock. But he was sore, exhausted, hazy and really wanted to recover so his erotic fantasies of Arthur could turn into a reality.

As he drifted off, he felt lips press to his forehead a moment, missing the soft mumbled words which followed. Smiling, he let the lag of sleep take him under.

 **

Merlin awoke, sore and stiff, and not the kind of stiff he’d imagined when he fell asleep in Arthur’s arms. Said blonde was noticeably absent from the bed. Had something happened? Had he done something wrong? And why in hell was he suddenly an insecure fourteen year old?

Groaning, he sluggishly slid out of bed, found his ripped, but still wearable underwear and dressed himself. He needed toast with a nice thick slathering of butter and the biggest fuck-off coffee to have ever been made in the history of big fuck-off coffees. Maybe he’d find Arthur downstairs.

He didn’t. Every single person he recognised from the day before was gone. Concern about where he was, started to grow in his gut. Had he imagined everything that had happened the evening before? Lord, he hoped not.

Instead of dwelling on insane ramblings, as he _knew_ he hadn’t made up the last 12 hours, he sat in the breakfast room and allowed himself to be waited on.

Minutes later, when he went to take his first sip of blessed coffee, he was interrupted by a tall, thin, middle aged man in a tan suit. His first thought was, brave man, that colour was hard to pull off, the next was, who in the hell was this?

“Merlin?”

Unsure how to answer, or if he should, he inclined his head minutely. Surely if he was one of the drug runners seeking revenge, he wouldn’t be asking so politely. He once more went to take a sip.

“Excellent, Gaius has organised a car, it’s waiting to take you to the airport - you’re flying home immediately, let’s go.”

Sighing, Merlin looked at his cup forlornly, “Can I at least get this to go?”

**

Sleeping on a flight was never something Merlin could do lightly; always more concerned someone would rifle through his overhead bag and steal his Gameboy or snacks than about being a sleep deprived grumpy twat at disembarkment.

He slept like the dead for most of the flight, no luggage to worry about. His seat mates gave him a wide berth, possibly due to the cacophony of bandages and bruises which had bloomed spectacularly. He looked like a brutal sunset painting, hues of purple, orange and yellow slapped across his pale skin violently.

Merlin didn’t complain about being left alone though. It gave him time to sleep and then to think, which with his track record of blowing things out of proportion, wasn’t necessarily the best idea. He at least kept his grumbling minimal, the man next to him gave a sharp look each time he let out a burst of disjointed words. He was officially the madman on the flight (there was always one).

The trip home was uneventful in its normalcy, he didn't even get stopped at customs. Just when he needed a distraction, nothing was there to distract. Though, kicking off in the airport was probably not a good plan to make something, _anything_ happen.

Gaius was his first visitor when he arrived home, the familiar bushy eyebrow waggling in its own rhythm as he ordered him on sick leave for a few weeks. The palpable relief rolled off Gaius in waves at Merlin’s safe return, and Merlin knew he was lucky for such friends and support at work.

But, Gaius didn’t mention Arthur.

The next visitor - Gwaine, who grasped him in a solid hug then spent the next hour performing lewd pantomimes on his couch of all the ways he'd fucked Percy. It was oddly endearing yet equal parts disturbing. On the Arthur front, he was slightly more helpful, Gwaine at least said that no-one had heard from Arthur in the office. So, by more helpful, he meant not helpful in the fucking least.

So, where had the blonde gone? And why in hell did Merlin care so much?

He realised later in the week, after questioning things for the thousandth time, that Arthur was a spy first and foremost, and they hadn’t exactly clarified if it was a one night thing or if they were on the path to attempt, what? More fucking (that would be nice) or even scarier, dating? So if Arthur had been called off on a new mission, he couldn’t tell Merlin anyway. A goodbye would've been nice though.

Merlin, if being completely honest with himself - which wasn’t often - knew the entire disappearing act really didn’t have anything to do with him and what had transpired between them. On a scale of one to important world saving missions, Merlin didn’t even rate. So with those kind of conditions, who the hell would want to date a spy? He did apparently. Quite badly too... _shit._

The worst part about all of this thinking on Arthur, he spent every night jerking off to the memory of their one hot encounter, then afterwards remembering what it felt like to lay in his arms. Thus coming to another realisation, he was treading dangerous emotional ground and was he ready for it? He couldn’t commit to an answer just yet.

Another week passed and he’d still not heard a peep from the blonde he was obsessing over. He wasn't certain when his worry turned to obsession, but he was going to own it, no point lying to himself.

At least his last appointment with Camelot’s Doctor went well. The cheek was clearing up slowly, he’d have a small scar, which he thought gave his face character, and the bullet wound was still a little tender and twingy, but the Doctor was happy on it’s healing progress. All in all, he was fighting fit. He was cleared for work the next week, _thank Christ_ \- as he was going bonkers bouncing around his unit every day. His internet usage had hit critical levels, the provider had even called him twice to ensure he hadn’t been hacked.

He left the Doctors in high spirits and returned home after stopping to buy the new mythical medieval Fluxx which went on sale that week. He’d always had a thing for kings, wizards and dragons fighting against evil. Distracted by sorting his mail while juggling his shopping, he didn’t realise at first that his door was unlocked until he pushed on it without using a key. He frowned down at the handle, certain he’d locked it prior to leaving for the day.

When the dark haired man who'd held him at gunpoint from the jungle, came out of his bedroom, Merlin realised he’d made a big mistake. He was a terrible fucking operative.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - yeah, a second cliffhanger... *shuffles awkwardly - sorry?
> 
> But hopefully other parts made up for it - I mean, finally boys! But poor Merlin's a bit banged up... and can't catch a break it seems.
> 
> Thanks once again for the love you've given the story, have loved reading the comments and the kudos are the icing on the cake!


	5. Chapter 5

“We meet again, Merlin.”

He swallowed his tongue, hand subconsciously raising to touch his almost healed cheek. Panic threatened to take over, this man, this bad guy knew his name? The syllables sounded all wrong coming from a stranger, one who had almost killed him. Before his spiralling thoughts could take root in hysteria, he took a deep calming breath and tried to think rationally. If the man wanted him dead, he wouldn’t be speaking to him, would he?

Then it hit him.

“How the hell do you know where I live?”

The man held up a phone. Merlin’s phone. The one he left in the jungle. Holy mother of fuck.

A phone was more than just numbers, photos and text messages. It was a gateway into someone’s life; their likes, dislikes, friends, hobbies, emails and everything in between. They would know what size shoes Merlin wore, his online gaming persona, where he got his coffee everyday on the way to work - _shit_ , and obviously where he lived through GPS. He was a dolt, he should’ve wiped his phone, why didn’t he? Arthur and Gwen were in trouble and he wasn’t thinking straight was the simple answer. Well, wasn’t that coming back to bite him on the arse now?

“Suffice to say, your life is extremely mundane, boring even - but Merlin, I _am_ going to enjoy using you.”

“Using me?” he squeaked, looking around for a fire poker. He didn’t have a fireplace or an iron poker, but dang it, he was certainly buying one when he escaped. And pray tell, how was he going to escape? Quick wits and a sparkling personality? Not likely.

“One thing we noticed about your ecstatically lacklustre life was, you are good with computers. More than good, borderlining genius if your programming and forum posts are anything to go by. We can use somebody like you.”

They were damn well touched if they thought he would willingly help them. He had an idea they weren’t wanting him to ensure their firewalls were up to date either.

But, would they force him? They seemed to be the type to - he just wasn’t sure how long he would last against any form of ‘persuasion’ they may feel the need to try. Why on earth would he start to think about his fingernails being torn off with pliers? It was not helping, not in the least.

“I'm not going to help you, you know.” He needed to be quiet, why was he provoking them? He also needed to escape, but his brain was drawing a blank, he was four floors up, so a dramatic jumping through his plate glass window would result in a disaster, not a clever Bond move. The secondary man standing at his front door, waiting - also looked about as tempting to fight or push past as a fall from a great height.

“You'll not have a choice, actually.”

Merlin looked askance at the man, there was always a choice, always.

“I'll choose to die then.” _Shut up, you idiot._

“Dramatic thing, aren't you? You won't die or be killed. You will be one of our first trials for Magik. You will work for us gladly, you will believe you always have and are fighting the good fight for freedom of choice, or maybe we will just recreate your backstory as a hardened criminal. The possibilities are endless.”

Merlin's eyes bugged. Fuck, fuck and fuck again.

“You're lying.” His voice cracked.

“Am I?”

“Your Magik shipment was stopped, the suppliers arrested and the syndicate disbanded.”

“True. But, are you naive enough to think we didn’t have reserves, a back-up in case things went awry? It was decided that along with our chemists, we need a tech genius to ensure past mistakes were not repeated, and, well, you're our guy. It's fitting I think. The man who caused the collapse of our shipment and distribution will head up the new one, gladly and of his own free will.”

He had nothing left to say, he couldn't let them use him, not using that drug. He didn't want to be wiped, have his memories altered, he may be boring and live life no where near the edge, but it was _his_ life. Crap, Arthur - he wouldn’t forget him, surely?

He would either try to escape or he'd… think about dramatic exits later. When there were no more options.

The man came closer, and Merlin took a startled step back, hitting his bookshelf in the process. That fire poker would be fucking great right about now.

He reached behind him, fingers grasping a solid object. Things were looking up.

He waited until the man reached out to grab him and he swung. The Mario Kart trophy he won as Wario from his online gaming group, smashed into the man’s cheek - blood erupting all over his face. Paybacks a bitch.

“Take him to the car.” The man roared, and suddenly the guy from his door plus one other, who had not been there four seconds earlier, grasped him, dragging him kicking and yelling from his unit. His neighbours, not surprisingly, staying behind closed doors. He couldn’t blame them.

There was no delivery van - incognito - parked out the front, instead a very humble Volkswagen Golf sat waiting. A guy, too large for the small car, behind the wheel; and as they all squashed in, Merlin had the urge to giggle hysterically at five grown men fitting into such a small space. Unfortunately, he was in the middle in the back, wedged tight - there would be no heroic opening the door to army roll away as they sped around a corner.

He had to think, try and work out what was going on. He really needed more field training. His thoughts snagged, what would James Bond do in this situation? But, James was a Hollywood fantasy, with charm, gadgets and luck (plus being a main character) to ensure he survived all impossible situations. Merlin was, shamefully, not main character material, more than an extra (hopefully), but no guarantee for survival. So what on Earth could he do, what could he draw on?

Arthur.

Perfect, he was real and a damn good operative - what would Arthur do?

Strangely the idea centred Merlins’ ever over dramatising thoughts. He would listen, watch and learn everything he could before making a decision. Which wasn’t a lot so far, the men were not chatty, and all of Merlin’s questions were going ignored.

“Where are you taking me?”

His query was met by silence once again. He took pleasure in watching the man he now dubbed _Wario_ , in the front seat holding bloody tissues to his face from where he’d been struck.

“The M5 would be quicker if you are trying to get out of the city.”

The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror and Merlin grinned, before the driver looked at Wario beside him, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Don’t be an idiot, you’ll go the way we planned.”

For all that he should be petrified at what unknown was about to unfold, he took the small wins where he could get them.

As they left the bustle of the city, the landscape changed and they turned off the motorway towards a small village Merlin had never heard of. He regretted not exploring more of his country, it was something he’d rectify when he escaped, _if he escaped_. His heartbeat began to increase, feeling it pulse in his neck. None of this was good, none of this boded well to a long and fruitful life.

As the traffic thinned and they passed cars only every few minutes, Merlin saw the driver glancing in his mirrors, more and more frequently.

“Boss, I think that car is following us.”

Wario turned around in his seat, just as Merlin flew forward, unexpectedly headbutting him. The roar of pain from both of them, drowning out the high pitched squeal as the car behind them struck the rear of the Golf. The car was ramming them.

The man to Merlin’s left attempted to pull a firearm from the inside of his jacket, but his elbow was stuck between them in the tight space and by the time he managed to unsheath his weapon, the car behind them flew past and threw itself into a handbrake side slide, blocking the path ahead. The Golf’s driver slammed on the brakes, their car careening wildly as it snaked off the road.

“Oh _fuck_!” The driver yelled as he threw his hands up to cover his face. Merlin watched horrified as a large ditch came at them at a speed too fast to dodge. _Oh, fuck_ was right.

**

Yelling, lots of yelling broke through Merlin’s haze and he came-to with a start, remembering where he was. He sat up, seatbelted into the Golf still, and that, right there, earned their safety rating in his books. The car was idling, the kerthunk and clatter of the busted engine dying out slowly. He was certain they weren't getting their deposit back from the rental company. The driver was motionless, head cushioned in the airbag. Merlin had no idea if he was breathing, and if he should care. Wario was nowhere to be seen.

One of the men from the backseat was out the car, laying on the ground, blood over his face, unconscious. The other was groggily coming-to next to him. He had a window, a very small window of escape time.

As he scrambled from the backseat, his foot struck something, the gun, the one the man had pulled out prior to the crash. He grabbed it and clambered out of the car.

What he saw when he ran around the back of the car, filled him with equal parts relief and dread.

Wario held Arthur (Arthur!) at gunpoint.

There was no waiting, there was no asking what their dastardly plan was, he was working on all instincts and they were screaming at him to save the man he… really liked a lot.

Merlin did what he thought was right, and shot Wario in the leg. The gun discharged loudly in his hand, the jerk of it painful. He’d forgotten to hold it correctly, the kickback was a bitch. He looked up, expecting to see Wario on the ground holding his bleeding leg. He wasn’t on the ground. He was looking at Merlin incredulously. Fucking hell in a handbasket. He’d missed.

The distraction though was enough for Arthur to grab Wario, slamming him to the ground on his stomach before his hands were roughly pulled behind his back. The blonde hissed something into Wario’s ear, making his eyes bulge before Arthur’s large knee held him down in the middle of his back.

“Merlin, are you ok?” The strangled question from Arthur, wild and laced with concern.

He touched his face and found blood on his fingers, _huh_ , he must have hit his cheek on something and reopened the wound. He gazed at Arthur, his avenging spy - drinking in the sight, losing himself in the moment of finally having the blonde before him. It felt like years, not weeks, since he’d seen him. “Uh, yeah - I’m fine… what are you -”

Sirens burst through the air, interrupting Merlins question as police cars appeared on the horizon. Merlin turned back to the Golf, forgetting momentarily at the sight of Arthur that there were three more men who could potentially creep up on them. Only the driver and the man on the ground remained. The other must have fled on foot. _Crap._

“You good here? I’m going to chase the other guy.”

“Like hell you are.” the words snapped over the space, making Merlin bristle.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re staying right there.”

“You are not the boss of me.”

“Sweetheart. I am today.”

Merlin shivered at the almost sarcastic endearment, liking the raw need it pulled from deep inside him. But, Arthur was once more wearing his dick hat and trying to order Merlin around. So, he went to run off after the bad guy.

“Merlin, you idiot - Gwen’s got it, she chased him down once she arrived.”

Merlin never saw Gwen, Arthur was lying - until he turned and saw a small empty car, drivers door flung open sitting behind him. He’d been too busy missing the shot on Wario to notice what was going on in his surrounds. It was confirmed, emphatically, he would make an awful spy.

A deep long breath left his tired body. He really had no idea what he would have done if he’d caught up to the other man. Judo Chop and Mario Kart trophies were probably a one time thing, plus he’d just found out he couldn’t shoot for the life of him. He’d assumed playing Goldeneye would have helped his aim, he was sadly mistaken. He sat on the road, cradling his sore wrist and waited for the police to arrive instead.

**

The next few hours were spent writing reports, giving statements and getting a thorough debrief from the Camelot clean up team. Merlin hated paperwork, almost as much as he hated being shot. His melodramatic streak clearly hadn’t dissipated yet.

Just when he thought he was at breaking point from sitting around, they were free to go. Arthur told Merlin he’d drive him home and he readily agreed. Not having a car in London was usually easy, but when he felt like crap, a dirty seat on the Tube was the last place he wanted to be sitting. He also couldn’t wait to get Arthur alone and ask him a million impertinent questions.

But as he climbed into the stupidly sleek and expensive car, he noticed Gwen already in the backseat. It looked like Arthur was carpooling. His one-on-one probing would have to wait.

He gave a small wave to Gwen, then looked towards a freshly showered Arthur, his hair still wet. It was unfair how handsome Arthur was without even trying - Merlin looked like a drowned rat with wet hair.

“Soooo, what have you been up to the last few weeks?” _Smooth Emrys, real smooth._

Arthur cut a glance at him as he merged with the evening traffic, expertly maneuvering between vehicles with a grace and ease Merlin would never have. He swore like a sailor when he drove, people were idiots when they got behind the wheel he liked to make sure they knew it.

“After...” he paused, glancing at Gwen in the mirror, “after we got you back to the hotel. Intel came in with Lance’s whereabouts.”

Merlin sat up straighter, that’s why Arthur left so suddenly. “And…”

“We got him yesterday, he’s fine. Well, he _will_ be fine.” He remained quiet for a beat, “The King’s Guard, or, well, more accurately, I will be heading up a task force to eradicate and hunt down any residual Magik syndicates.”

“And Wario?” Merlin asked, “he’s behind bars?”

“Wario? Who’s that?”

“Oh, umm,” Merlin felt himself flush, “So, yeah, the man I _didn’t_ shoot, I smacked him across the face with a trophy I won playing as Wario in Mario Kart - name kind of stuck I guess.”

That punch of laughter from Arthur, glorious. “So, his name’s not Wario. It’s Robert, and he’s going to be behind bars for the rest of his life. That was _you_ who got him in the face?”

“That was me.”

“Much better with a punch than with a gun.”

“I would be offended, but for once - you’re right.”

“For once?” Arthur’s teasing tone faltering when Gwen coughed from the back. _Shit,_ they had company.

“You boys are too-”

“So, Percy and Gwen are on the team so far, we’re still sorting out logistics on where to be based and how we are going to work together.” Arthur interrupted Gwen who sat back with an amused huff.

Merlin leant forward so he could turn in his seat and see Gwen’s face, ignoring the fact Arthur hadn’t asked him to join the team. What did he expect? He’d done nothing but proven to be a liability of sorts. “After everything that happened in the jungle and getting Lance back - are you good now?”

“Now he’s safe, yeah I am. I’m going to help him with his recovery, he’s… he went through a lot in those few weeks. He might not return to the field, but we’ll see. Seems I got my unicorn after all.”

“Good, that’s good, I mean… you know what I mean.” Gwen’s hand found his shoulder and squeezed. “How did you find me today though? How did you even know about Wario, er, Robert taking me?”

“Lance.” Arthur said simply as he made a right turn, heading in the opposite direction of Merlin’s unit, they must be dropping Gwen off first. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to being alone with Arthur in the car. Or anywhere, really.

“He heard a lot in his time as a captive, he knew they had a phone found in the jungle. The phone of somebody who had tricked them and escaped. They caught Lance, hoping to use him for intel on Camelot, he held out, the poor bastard.” Arthur turned another corner, and merged into a stream of traffic. Merlin could tell he needed a second to gather his thoughts. “He put two and two together from all the disjointed ramblings he’d heard when conscious. He told us today they were planning on finding the phones owner. You.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, whose fingers had tightened on the steering wheel almost indecipherably. “If we hadn’t found Lance when we did, and if he didn’t tell us what he’d heard immediately, then… we were almost too late.”

“But you weren’t” Melin supplied, then threw caution to the wind and reached over to pat Arthur’s thigh consolingly. The sharp breath and searching glance from the blonde making Merlin flush. It took more willpower than he thought to remove his hand. “Thank you both though. I don’t think the Vulcan Nerve grip would have worked as my escape trick this time.”

The snort of laughter from Gwen made him smile.

“The what?” Arthur asked.

Merlin groaned and hid his face in his hand. “Never mind. Just take us home you pop culture black hole.”

The grin on Arthur’s face made Merlin’s chest thump in all the inappropriately appropriate ways.

 **

Merlin was pretty smart, generally speaking. But when Arthur pulled up under a flash apartment block into the residents parking, he took a moment to frown then look at Arthur questioningly.

“Uh, if this is where you think I live, then we need to chat about what you believe Camelot is paying me.”

“You dolt, this is my apartment.”

“Ok, we definitely need to talk about how much Camelot is paying _you._ But, um why are we here?”

Arthur turned the engine off and climbed out without a word. Merlin followed suit, not sure what else he should do, but knowing he wanted to follow in any case.

“They grabbed you from home, right?”

Merlin nodded and followed Arthur from the garage to the elevator. It was as they waited he chuckled, realised what an idiot he was, “Oh, ok. That makes more sense, they knew where I lived, and we don't know if there are more of them out there. Hence - I can’t go home.”

“Yep, you’d best look for a new unit, at least until we’ve confirmed we have caught them all. Better to be safe than sorry.” Arthur hit the button for floor twenty three and the doors closed with a snap, followed by the ding of each floor passing. Merlin for some reason was amused by the soft music playing, it really _was_ posh, the elevator at his apartment - _ha_ , were stairs, lots and lots of stairs. “Camelot will foot the bill for the move, since the trouble was caused in the line of duty.”

“Nice, I might get an upgrade.” Arthur smiled as they alighted from the elevator, and started down a hall, with, _wait_ \- was that a picasso hanging on the wall? No, it couldn’t be. Sighing, Merlin finally verbalised what was niggling at him. “Ok, what doesn’t make sense though - is why am I here? Don’t they have a safe house they’d chuck me in?”

Arthur stopped abruptly, Merlin almost falling against his back. It was just like the jungle, except this time he didn’t rip Arthur’s shirt open. _Pity._

“I’m sorry, I just assumed… my mistake, I can take you to a safe house, if you want?”

It took Merlin longer than it should have to realise Arthur sounded a little quiet, laced with a dose of vulnerability. _Oh,_ he was asking Merlin to stay, _here_ , in his personal space and Merlin was being a right obtuse idiot.

“No! Uh, no - I _want_ to stay here. With you. If you want me, that is?”

“Merlin, I don’t think I can make it any plainer how much I want you.”

With those words ringing in his ears, Arthur started walking again, stopping in front of a door, before swinging it open for him. He walked in first then stopped dead. The apartment was huge. He was _definitely_ in over his head, what was he really doing here with Arthur? He was batting not only out of his league, but in a completely different sport, played in a foreign country 500 years earlier.

The snick of the door shook him from his thoughts. He turned to tell Arthur what a beautiful home he had, but instead was pushed roughly against the wall. Lips devoured his in a kiss so hard and hot it stole his ability to rationalise for a moment.

“Fuck, I missed you,” the blonde spoke into his neck between kisses, hands pushing into the Camelot sweatpants Merlin had been put in after a long needed shower at base. Fingers grazed over his hardening cock and his head hit the wall behind him with a loud thud. _Oh God_ , those fingers, hands - fuck.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving that night.” And why the hell did he bring that up, right then? Right when Arthur was touching him, finally. He couldn’t even wait to come once, before ruining the mood?

The hands stilled a moment, Merlin’s hips jerking forward involuntary, asking without words for Arthur to carry on. The blonde thankfully did, one hand wrapping around his cock, squeezing before making a lazy dry stroke. _Christ._

“I _did_ leave you a note. The drugs from your wounds had knocked you out, I tried shaking you awake, but you were too busy snoring and drooling.”

“I beg your pardon, I do not snore, and there was no note.”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

“Hmm.”

“Can we talk about this later? I just really need to suck you. I’ve been thinking about it non-stop for about.. you know, two years now.”

“Two years...” Merlin trailed off in a disbelieving whisper as Arthur dropped to his knees, pulling the loose pants with him. Holy hell, he couldn’t begin to comprehend what that meant. Heat and wet engulfed his dick and Merlin did no more thinking.

Arthur sucked cock with a passion and almost grueling pace which left Merlin’s hands tangled in his light hair, half fucking his mouth without even meaning to. His hips jerked each time Arthur’s mouth popped off the end of his cock, and before he could recalibrate and get his thoughts in order, a tongue would snake across the head, curling around before being swallowed to the hilt again. It was fucking phenomenal. Who’d have thought the great Arthur Pendragon had no gag reflex?

When the blonde introduced a tight fist grasping the base of his dick, Merlin almost blew immediately. Staring down, watching his cock disappear and reappear from the tight wet, while being stroked, was enough to make any sane man crazy with lust. Then Arthur looked up at him, dark, blown eyes catching his, and held. The following smirk, Merlin was sure, is what undid him.

“Arthur… fuck - I’m going to -”

Instead of pulling back, Arthur doubled his efforts, slipping a hand between Merlin’s arse and the wall, and when a spit slick finger breached his hole, he came with a bellow, twitching and jerking direct into Arthur’s throat. The end of his cock convulsed as he felt the motion of Arthur gulping him down.

Merlin spasmed against the wall, coming down from the highest of highs, Arthur’s head resting against his thigh, breathing deeply. They were both a mess, Merlin’s shirt, rucked up under his armpits, sweats bunched around his ankles and Arthur’s spit stained, red chinned, smirking face now staring back up at him.

“You’re delicious, taste better than I could ever have imagined. Can’t wait to eat your arse out.”

Those filthy words made Merlin’s cock twitch valiantly, but not quite enough. He wasn’t eighteen anymore. But, he _could_ do something in return.

“How about we get more than a foot in the door and I’ll reciprocate. You're not the only one who’s been imagining this for years.”

Arthur looked up, surprise etched gloriously on his face. “I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. I didn’t actually _like_ you until three weeks ago.” He was enjoying catching Arthur off guard, “I could still want to fuck you though, even if you were an utter horror and the biggest arsehole to ever walk around Camelot. Have you _seen_ you? Gorgeous twat.”

Arthur’s laugh was something he suddenly needed to hear more of. Every day if he had his way.

“So… ” Merlin gestured towards the lounge and Arthur stood up, kissing him soundly, the taste of himself on the blondes tongue not as off putting as he’d imagined. It was actually pretty hot.

“Not the lounge, and you're not sucking me, not yet - but Christ, I do want that…” Arthur led Merlin to the bedroom. “You asked me to do something that night, something that fucking drove me insane not being able to do. Ask again...”

Merlin flushed, dick alive and well on it’s way to paying attention again. The intense look Arthur currently gave, brokered no room for pretending he didn’t know exactly what was being asked of him. “Arthur, I want you to fuck me into the mattress - _hard_.”

The growl from Arthur, sweet and perfect. Within minutes they were both naked and sprawled on a bed bigger than Merlin’s kitchen, Arthur between his thighs working finger after finger into him. He was so full, unable to stop squirming and sweating, but taking everything Arthur gave and more. Arthur’s tender kisses and words of encouragement, enabling him to take more, to want nothing more than to please the man who was working deep inside of him; stealing his breath, his voice, his everything. Arthur could ask for the world in this moment and Merlin would deliver it.

“You’re gorgeous like this. Greedily taking my fingers, writhing on them, waiting for my cock to fill you.”

Merlin gasped something, which made Arthur chuckle, he didn’t even know what he’d said - incoherent with lust, with need. He craved to be filled.

“More… need...” he managed.

“I’ve got you - always got you.”

Then the fingers were gone, replaced by something much bigger, more intense as it slowly pushed in, inch by inch. Merlin dug his heels into the soft duvet, arching to lessen the burn, to feel it all - to take Arthur into his tightness. Oh Christ, it was the best feeling in the world, he was full, bursting, unable to breathe.

“Merlin, hey, look at me.”

He took a second, thoughts realigning and his dazed eyes met Arthur’s blue ones, crinkled at the edges from his soft smile. He leant down and kissed Merlin lightly on the edge of the mouth.

“You ok?”

“Never better,” he managed, breathing easier, “but if you don’t start moving -”

Arthur fucked into him hard, relentless, with a brutal rhythm which couldn’t be human. Merlin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell limp and allowed Arthur to punish him into the cushioning of the bed. One side of his body was all hard lines, pounding slick flesh, slapping against flesh, skin reddening from the assault and the other side was being hugged in feathers and pillows. It was all too much. The contrasting sensations prickled his skin until he was tingling all over, euphoria starting in the very tips of his toes and rushing through him in a wave. He was overwhelmed in the most blissful way possible, body shaking uncontrollably before he tautened.

His second orgasm came quick and unexpected, hurting with its intensity, arse clamping harder than he’d meant around Arthur’s beautiful cock, which caused the blonde to shudder and yell mid-motion, slamming deep and not moving except in tiny spasms. Pulse after pulse flowed into Merlin’s body as Arthur came.

Minutes, or maybe hours later, Arthur removed himself from Merlin’s sweat sticky body, leaving tender kisses across his flushed chest. He heard the snap of a condom being tied and discarded before Arthur was right back, cleaning him off, always touching him, not allowing him to come down alone. Was it to early to be in love? Yeah, it had to be. He kept it to himself for the time being, as Arthur curled around him.

They slept.

**

Merlin woke to the most glorious aroma, one which managed to get his weary and sore limbs up out of bed. Which in itself was a feat, if he’d owned Arthur’s bed, he was pretty sure he’d never leave it’s comfortable embrace. He would work from home, from the bed - he was sure of it.

Finding Arthur in the kitchen, wearing shorts and nothing else, tasting something from a spoon over his stove top, was so ridiculously domestic it made his chest pulse with a desire for this to never end.

“Hey sleepy, you’re up.”

“I can see why you're a spy - very observant.”

Arthur smirked and added some ground pepper to the dish. Then he stopped.

“So, there’s something I need to ask of you, and it might be hard to do.”

Merlin swallowed thickly, unsure why his stomach roiled a little, surely Arthur wasn’t about to throw him out, not after what they’d just shared. He couldn’t have been the only one to feel the connection, the bond.

“Sure, I guess.” He hated the tightness in his voice.

“The task force I’m putting together to take down any further Magik syndicates. I want you on it. You’re my tech guy. The only one I trust enough. Well, I guess there is Gwaine in a pinch, but there's a reason I’m asking you and not him.”

Letting out a long, soft, relieved breath, so as not to alert Arthur he'd been panicking slightly, he frowned. “Of course I will, but why might it be hard?”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath not unlike Merlin’s, like he was worried Merlin would say no to his request. Which was odd on so many levels, why in hell would he say no to an opportunity to work closely with Arthur, day to day? Unless Arthur didn’t want to see him that often, so then why ask him? Maybe it was a choice between relationship or career. _Shit_ , he’d answered too quickly in that case.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to work that closely with someone. Someone you’re dating. Long term dating, I mean. This task force could take years, and take me all over the world, and I want you by my side. Yeah - I know it’s a conflict of interest, but Camelot have been fine with Gwen and Lance for the last four years, so we shouldn’t be any different. I mean… If you want… am I messing this up? Did you want to date? Uh - long term.”

Merlin crowded Arthur against the kitchen bench, kissing him soundlessly, giving everything he had into the press of their bodies. He smiled against Arthur’s lips when the blonde finally relaxed into the kiss.

“Would any other tech guy put up with you? Doubtful. Plus dating the boss has to come with some kind of perks doesn’t it? Bigger bedrooms? Privacy maybe? And you know, sex, lots and lots of amazing sex, _all_ over the world.”

The grin Arthur gave him, made his heart soar. It was going to be ok.

“Good, that’s great in fact.” Arthur patted his butt before moving back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pot once more, “almost ready to dish up, hope you’re hungry.”

“Famished. What culinary delight am I being treated to?”

Arthur served up and Merlin laughed when he saw his plate. “Gumbo. Brilliant - with a side serving of drug trafficking code?”

“Nope, apparently it really was just a recipe. Come on, lets eat in the lounge, I thought we could watch a DVD.”

“You own DVDs? How very early 2000s of you.”

“Don’t be a dick, _Mer_ lin,” He gestured towards the large TV on the wall, “They’re in the cupboard over there, I’ll let you choose.”

Merlin could only imagine what DVDs Arthur owned, The Bill, maybe? Or even the Midsomer Murders box set. He’d have to see if he had Netflix or something, surely Pendragon could afford it. But when he opened the cupboard door and saw what was inside, he stopped dead.

“You absolute Cabbage Head.”

The blonde to his credit just roared in laughter, and Merlin couldn’t help the grin which split his face. In front of him was the entire back catalogue of MacGyver, all seven seasons.

“Merlin, oh God, you should have seen your face when I asked you who he was.” Arthur wiped his eyes, holy hell, were they tears of laughter? Merlin felt something warm inside of him. “Seriously though, MacGyver - who the hell doesn’t know him?”

Merlin chuckled and put season one, episode one on and snuggled next to Arthur, eating his Gumbo and knowing everything would be right in the world. There was hope for Arthur yet, and more so, there was hope for them both - together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with me to the end. Hope you enjoyed this little offering to the Merthur Gods (well fans at the least)!
> 
> I can't believe how long ago this amazing show ended - and I can't believe how many fictions and love their stories still get. This is why I adore fanfiction - it never really ends, and there are always stories to be told...
> 
> To all of you wonderful beings who left kudos, comments, bookmarked or followed this (and me!) you forever have my gratitude, nothing is as humbling and amazing than seeing people enjoy something which you created.
> 
> Thanks again - see you next time :)


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